Daily thoughts for priests

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Daili? tTbouQbta

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DAILY THOUGHTS

PRIESTS

VERY REV. J; B; HOGAN, S.S., D.D.

President of St. John's Seminary
Brighton, Mass.

BOSTON

Marlier, Callanan & Company

1899

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4y035
fmprfmatut^

^ Joannes Josephus,

Archiep, Bostoniensis.

"COPIES RLCEIVSD

SECOND COPY,

Copyright^ 1899, by Rev. J. B. Hogam.

PREFACE

OST priests, especially in missionary
countries such as ours, are busy men.
Interests of all kinds, religious and sec-
ular, their own and those of their people, claim
their attention almost every day, and at all hours
of the day. Those who escape this constant
pressure of business or of duty are still liable to
be caught up and carried along by the rush of
the world around them, and too often they yield
to it without resistance. Some are so restless
by temperament or by habit, that, even when
entirely undisturbed from without, they find it
difficult to settle down quietly to anything of a
purely mental kind. How detrimental such con-
ditions are to that "life with things unseen '' so
necessary in the priesthood, need not be insisted
upon. The Non in commotione Dominus of
Scripture, and the In silentio et quiete proficit
anima devota of the Imitation have become

preface

axioms of the spiritual life. No priest who con-
sults his own experience will be tempted to
question them, and this is why we find all those
who have seriously at heart their own spiritual
welfare coming back from time to time to the
resolution of not denying to their poor souls,
whatever may happen, the daily nutriment with-
out which they cannot but languish and decline.
What the most competent authorities agree in
recommending, in one shape or another, as the
normal sustenance of a priestly life, is the prac-
tice of meditation and the habitual reading
of devotional books, especially the " Lives of
the Saints.'* These helps are guaranteed by
their rules to members of religious orders, and a
growing number of secular priests faithfully em-
ploy them. Yet too many still permit them-
selves to be deprived, of a part at least, of this
daily allowance, nor can those who desire it most
always succeed in getting it. Shall they, then,
because they have failed to secure their regular
repast, go all day long, or, it may be, several
days, without nutriment ? Should they not
rather, as men of business often do when com-
pelled to miss their meals, try to sustain their
strength by getting some nourishment when and
where they can ?

preface vii

It is to supply a need of this kind that the
following pages have been written. They con-
sist of truths almost entirely borrowed from the
Gospel, and viewed in their bearing on the spirit
and duties of the priesthood. The text which
introduces each subject is generally a saying of
Our Lord himself, and the development of it is
gathered from other recorded utterances of His,
or from the inspired writings of the Apostles, or
from the daily experience of life. A passage
from the Fathers, the Imitation, or some other
authorized source is generally given at the end,
reflecting in human form the heavenly truth, and
helping to impress it on the mind of the reader.
As a substitute for morning meditation, when-
ever passed over, one of these thoughts may be
taken up at any free moment in the course of
the day, or before retiring to rest at night. In
its condensed form it will be found sufficient for
one spiritual meal, but on condition that it be
assimilated slowly. Quickly swallowed food is
no better for the soul than for the body.

Hence it is respectfully recommended to those
who use this little volume for their spiritual
benefit, to avoid all haste in considering the
thought they have chosen to dwell upon. Our
most sensitive photographic plates require time

viii preface

to reproduce objects that are feebly lighted ; and
in most of us the spiritual apparatus is far from
sensitive, and the truths set before us often
show but dimly. In order, therefore, to be im-
pressed by them, we have to take time, holding
our minds and souls steadily and humbly before
the divine truth, especially in its bearing on the
priestly life, until it has pictured itself fully
within us. The words of Our Blessed Lord, as
set forth in the text, will often suffice by them-
selves to produce the desired effect. When this
happens, it will be best to go no further for the
time ; the reflections which follow may be re-
served for some other occasion.

Outside the Beatitudes which come first, no
order has been followed in the arrangement of
these " Daily Thoughts.*' Neither have they
been chosen because of their paramount impor-
tance. As many more of equal value might
have been presented in their place. These hap-
pened to come first before the writer. If they
prove acceptable to those to whom they are
offered, others may follow.

St. John's Seminary,
Brighton, Mass.

CONTENTS

FACE

Preface iii

L The Beatitudes i

II. The Poor in Spirit 5

III. The Humble 10

IV. The Meek 15

V. The Mourners 20

VI. The Merciful 26

VII. The Pure of Heart 30

VIII. Hungering after Justice ..... 34

IX. The Peacemakers . 39

X. The Persecuted 43

XI. Lost Opportunities 47

XII. The Worldly Spirit 50

XIII. Openings 54

XIV. The Voice of God 57

XV. The Divine Fragrance of Christ . 62

XVI. The Forgiving Spirit 65

XVII. Asking Forgiveness 69

XVIII. Belonging to Christ 74

XIX. Renovation of Spirit 77

XX. The Servant of Christ 80

XXI. Pity 84

XXII. How to Bear Honors 88

XXIII. Self-Denial 91

ix

X Contents

PAGE

XXIV. Through Death to Life .... 95

XXV. The Love of Children .... 99

XX VL Christ The Comforter 103

XXVn. The Priest a Comforter. ... 107

XXVI I L The Religious Man in

XXIX. Holiness and Helpfulness ... 114

XXX. The Priest a Soldier 118

XXXI. The Saving Power of the Priest 122

XXXII. Young Priests 126

XXXIII. Carrying the Cross ...... 130

XXXIV. Piety 135

XXXV. Preaching 139

XXXVI. Purity of Intention 143

XXXVII. The Barren Fig-Tree 147

XXXVIII. Christ's Sufferings and Ours . 151

XXXIX. Unselfishness 155

XL. The Priest's Happiness .... 159

XLI. Success 164

XLII. A Good Name 167

XLIII. Teaching by Example 172

XLIV. Spiritual Sweetness 176

XLV. Spiritual Influence 181

XLVI. Scandal 184

XLVII. Ideals, False and True .... 187

XLVI II. The Unfaithful Shepherd ... 191

XLIX. The Divine Guest 193

L. Detachment 198

THE BEATITUDES

HHE Beatitudes, so named because those who
possess them are pronounced by our Lord
_ '^ blessed ^^ (beati)^ designate certain con-

ditions of soul and life, a tone and a spirit little
thought of before He came, but which He declares
peculiarly suited to His kingdom. This kingdom
has only its beginning on earth ; it finds its consum-
mation in heaven, and the Beatitudes fit the soul in
which they dwell for both stages. Those who are
endowed with these gifts, Christ promises to wel-
come to His kingdom on earth, and to crown in His
heavenly kingdom.

The Beatitudes, then, are certain special forms
of virtue, of little value in the eyes of the outside
world, if believed in at all, but strongly characteris-
tic of the followers of Christ. They are, however,
far from being the only distinctive features of the
Christian. There is much in the sequel of the
Sermon on the Mount and in the rest of the Gos-
pel to which they bear no visible reference ; nor is
it easy to see why they were singled out in prefer-
ence to so many others and thus put together,

H)afli5 UbouoDts

unless it be that the lack of recognition or reward
with which they are met in the world at large,
and which is peculiar to them, led our Lord to
offer them a special measure of approval and
encouragement.

This He does, first, by calling those who possess
them '^ blessed,^'' that is, happy, for the Latin
word, beati^ and the Greek /xaKapiot, mean nothing
more ; and, next, by holding forth the reward which
awaits them in His kingdom. Though presented
under various forms, this reward is always the
same : " the kingdom,'*^ " the land,'*^ mercy, consolation,
satiety, a share in the divine Sonship, the vision
of God, — all meaning one and the same thing, the
possession of true happiness, begun here below and
completed in life everlasting.

It is remarkable that our Lord should strike the
keynote of happiness at the very beginning of the
Sermon on the Mount, which is the summary of
His whole moral doctrine; and we are naturally
led to ask why, in promulgating His law. He did not
appeal rather to the higher motives of duty or of
love. The answer given by many is that happiness
is our true end, and therefore to be held forth as an
inducement more than aught else. But in reality,
happiness is the end of man only in this sense, that
he is meant by his Creator to be happy. The su-
preme law of his existence, his true end, is not hap-
piness, but goodness, or moral perfection. No man
is bound to be happy, unless in so far as happiness

Ubc Beatttu&es

follows on goodness ; but he is bound to be good,
whatever may follow.

Yet Christ does not appeal here to the broader and
purer motive, but to what is relative and personal :
the wish to be happy. And the reason is not far to
seek. In human nature there are two mainsprings
of action, the one interested, the other unselfish;
the former proceeding from and leading back to
one's own satisfaction, present or prospective, the
latter pointing to somebody or something outside
and beyond self. The unselfish one alone seems to
have any intrinsic moral value; it is certainly be-
yond comparison superior to the other ; yet they are
both indestructible in our nature. No man is en-
tirely unselfish or utterly selfish. No man, even if
he would, can sustain himself in a life of virtue ex-
clusively by the higher or unselfish motives, such as
duty or love. But although the lower impulses
ordinarily lead in a direction opposed to the higher,
they sometimes suggest the same course of action.
Thus a man may be led to the performance of cer-
tain duties by the voice of conscience, and at the
same time by the fear of public opinion. It is in
this way that the prospect of rewards and punish-
ments has its place and share in the Christian life.
Right through the Gospel our Lord appealed to it,
because He thoroughly understood human nature,
and accurately measured its possibilities.

He knew that personal motives are generally the
strongest, the most easily awakened, the most persis-

2)ails Ubougbts

tent, and He consequently enlisted them on the side
of virtue. To do so was especially necessary in deal-
ing with the Jews, to whom the Prophets had always
appealed in the name of their own interests. It was
necessary for all peoples and for all times, because
even in the practice of religion the mass of mankind
will always be self-seeking. Yet with these lower
motives, others of a higher kind, such as the sense
of duty, gratitude, reverence, love, are sure to min-
gle in some degree, and will thus lift men up to a
life which, despite its weaker elements, will belong
in its substance to virtue. True wisdom will teach
them not to neglect the view of personal interest
when it is needed to sustain them, but at the same
time to make it more and more a subsidiary element
in life, and rest their action chiefly on something
beyond and above self.

Sunt qui ita pauperes esse volunt ut nihil illis desit
Su7it et alii mites, sed quandiu nihil dicitur vel agitur
nisi eorum arbitrio; patebit vero quam longe sint a vera
mansuetudine^ si oriatur occasio. Alios quoque lu-
gentes video ; sed si de corde procederent illce lacrymcB^
non tarn facile solverentur in risum. Sunt alii miseri-
cordes sed de his quce iis non pertinent Sunt et qui ut
alios ad pacem reducer ent tarn solliciti sunt ut pacifici
viderentur^ nisi quod eorum commotio, si forte quiquid
contra eos dictum aut factum fuerit, tardius universis
difficiliusque poterit sedari.

S. Bernard, Serm» 4, de Adventu.

Ube ipoor in Spirit

II

THE POOR IN SPIRIT

Beati pauperes spiritu, quoniam ipsorum es^ regnum
ccelorum,

" Blessed are the poor in spirit^ for theirs is the
Kingdom of heaven^ — Matt. v. 3.

I HO are ^' the poor in spirit^'' to whom Jesus
promises His kingdom? A reference to
any of the larger commentaries will show
how variously these words have been understood,
and all because of the very word " in spirit " which
was seemingly added to remove ambiguity.

Passing over most of these interpretations, we
may remark that the Fathers have commonly un-
derstood the words as meaning humility. '^ Ad-
junxit spiritu^''^ says St. Jerome, " ut humilitaiem
intelligeres, non petturiamy " Pauperes spiritu hum-
iles et tiinentes Deum^^'^ says St. Augustine. And
so also St. Ambrose, St. Gregory, St. Chrysostom.
Some have taken them as meaning the spiritually
poor who are conscious of their misery, the oppo-
site of those satisfied with themselves, like the
Pharisee praying in the temple, or the ''anger' of

Bails Ubougbts

the Apocalypse, Diets quia dives sum et locuple-
tatus. But there seems to be no sufficient reason
for abandoning the Hteral meaning of the terms.
In the corresponding reproduction of Christ's dis-
course by St. Luke (vi. 20), the perplexing word,
spiritu^ is absent. ^''Blessed are ye poor ^^'' he says,
adding (vi. 24) a corresponding threat against
the rich, " Woe to you that are rich^ It is
question, therefore, of true poverty or privation of
earthly goods, either as a fact or as a disposition
of the soul, that is, detachment from earthly posses-
sions.

To attach the notion of happiness to either was
something entirely new to the Jewish people. All
through the Old Testament, wealth is looked upon as
a blessing, and to possess at least a competency was
the ambition of the best. Poverty was looked down
upon as a misfortune ; yet the poor should not be
despised. They were better, if faithful to God, than
the wicked even though wealthy. To crush them
was a great sin; God was their protector, ever
ready to listen to their appeals, and in His name
the Prophets recommended them to the justice
and the helpful compassion of His people. When
the Messiah came He was to be their special de-
fender. Judicabit pauper es populi et salvos faciei filios
\ pauperu77i, . . Farcet pauperi et inopi, et afiimas
I pauperum salvas faciet. Ex usuris et iniquitate redi-
\ met animas eorum^ et honorabile nomen corum coram
illo. (Ps. Ixxi.) Judicabit in justitia pauperes et

Ube poor in Spirit

arguet in cequitate pro mansuetis terrce, (Isaiah
xi. 4.)

The poor, therefore, had reason to rejoice at His
coming, and would naturally be among the first to
seek refuge in His Kingdom. And so they did, as
we learn from the history of the early Church. In
her bosom they found themselves quite at home.
Christ Himself had chosen to be poor; those He
loved most He found and left in poverty. He
pointed to riches as an almost insuperable ob-
stacle to salvation, Qtiam difficile qui pecuniam
habe?it in regnum Dei ifitroibunf (Mark x., Luke
xix.), and to the rich young man who begged to
follow Him, He set, as a condition, the abandon-
ment of his wealth : '^ If thou wilt be perfect^ go
sell what thou hast and give to the poor^ and then
co7ne and follow Afe,^^ Again and again St. Paul
points to the evils of covetousness and to the perils
of wealth. Nor are they difiicult to find. The
pursuit of riches leads to practices unworthy, unfair,
unjust. It hardens the heart. Money once got
fosters pride. It leads to self-indulgence. It often
destroys in the possessor the noblest ideals of life,
weighs down his religious aspirations, and makes
him utterly worldly.

The teachings of Our Lord and of His apostles
sank deeply into the mind of the Church and fash-
ioned the conduct of countless Christian souls. The
history of the Saints is a history of detachment, of
indifference to wealth, of voluntary sacrifice of the

8 2)aili? ZhorxQMs

things of this world. The promise of Our Lord was
literally fulfilled in the poor. Wherever His Gospel
was accepted, they were henceforth lifted up in their
own eyes and in the eyes of their fellow-men, rever-
enced, envied, voluntarily served by the highest
and the best. The great ones of this world knelt at
their feet and did homage in their person to God
made man, their common Saviour and brother.

There are few things in which a priest is more
commonly expected to be faithful to the teachings
of Our Lord than in detachment from worldly pos-
sessions. The greater the rush for money all
around him, the more urgent is his duty to pro-
claim aloud the great truth of the Gospel : '^ What
availeth it a man to gain the whole world if he lose
his own soul^^'' and to strengthen the lesson by his
example. The priest known to have a hold on his
money has little hold on the hearts of his people.
Liberality, on the contrary, a readiness to give,
draws them to him. And when it is seen that
whatever comes to him is sure to make its way to
some laudable end, nobody grudges him what he
possesses, but, on the contrary, all rejoice to enlarge
his means of action. In the interest of his own
soul he has to keep himself from the entanglement
of speculations and investments, especially of a
hazardous kind, from the accumulation of money,
except for definite religious purposes, from a too
great eagerness to possess it even for the best ends,

Ube poor in Spirit 9

and from using questionable methods in acquiring
it. All these things would fatally tend to make him
unspiritual and unpriestly.

Noli amare bona quoe possessa onerant^ amata m-
quinant^ amissa cruciafit — S. Bernard.

10 Bafli? Ubougbts

III

THE HUMBLE

" Beati paupers spiritur

" Blessed are the poor in spirit''' — Matt. v. 3.

T is remarkable that the great majority of
the Fathers should have understood these
words, not of poverty, but of humility.
The fact that humility is a fundamental Christian
virtue may have had its share in inducing them to
place it at the very beginning of the sermon on the
Mount. Besides, poverty and humility have a close
natural connection. The poor are expected to have
a sense of their lowliness, and the humble in heart
are truly poor in spirit, that is, free from attachment
to wealth.

Many are the definitions of humility to be found
in theological and ascetical books, but it can scarce
be said that they help much to understand that
virtue. It may be that no definition is needed or
even possible, the virtue in question being only a
simple movement or attitude of the soul which, if
not experienced in some degree, cannot be under-
stood, and, if experienced, needs only to be pointed

XTbe Ibumble ii

out. Self-abasement is perhaps the word that de-
scribes it best.

Like the other virtues, its seat is not in the mind,
but in the feeUngs and the will. The unfavorable
judgment on one's self is a necessary prerequisite,
but does not constitute the virtue. A lowly opinion
of self may be forced on the proudest of men with-
out making him humble. He is humble only when
he freely accepts the consequences of his faults or
of his shortcomings. ^'^ In ipso appetitu^^'' says St.
Thomas (2.2, 6 1, 2), '' consistit humilitas essenfialitery

Humility is a corrective and a curative or medi-
cinal virtue. It is the remedy of pride, and like that
great evil of our nature, it has its various forms and
its various degrees. Thus pride leads men to think
too much of themselves ; humility calls them back
to a true sense of what they are. Pride blinds them
to their defects ; humility opens their eyes to them.
Pride makes men imperious, contemptuous, arro-
gant ; humility makes them modest. Even pagans
recognized that special form of humility, and recom-
mended an unassuming manner, modesty of thought
and of demeanor (Cicero, De Officiis), Pride causes
the merits of others to be overlooked ; humility
keeps the mind alive to them and gives full credit
to those who possess them. Pride, with all its lofty
airs, is mean enough to seek more consideration
than it deserves. Humility is honest, and will no
more have the good opinion of others than their
money, beyond what it has a right to.

12 H)aili? XTbougbts

So far humility is only a matter of sincerity and
proper feeling, a natural virtue. But, like all other
moral dispositions, it may be turned to supernatural
purposes, and, in fact, as described, it is already
the condition, if not the foundation, of most of the
Christian virtues. Spiritual writers show this in de-
tail, and only a little reflection is needed to see the
truth of the statement.

Christian humility as we find it in the Saints goes
much deeper. It strikes at the very root of pride
and leads those in whom it flourishes to the cultiva-
tion of feelings and practices extremely uncongenial
to the natural man.

The first is a hearty self-contempt ; not merely
a modest opinion of themselves, or a feeling of hu-
miliation arising from noticeable defects, but some-
thing much stronger, — a keen perception of their
nothingness before God ; an overwhelming sense of
the least imperfections still clinging to them, with
the result of blinding them equally to their own
qualities and to the faults of others. St. Paul deems
himself " the least of the apostles^ unworthy to he called
an apostle r In his own eyes he is nothing : " nihil
sumy And so the Saints in the course of Christian
ages — St. Bernard, St. Philip Neri, St. Francis de
Sales, St. Vincent de Paul, the Cur6 of Ars, — all
speak most disparagingly of themselves and mean
every word of it.

The second feature of their humility was to treat
themselves in accordance with this self-depreciating

Ube Ibumble 13

judgment. They instinctively chose the last place.
Anything they considered good enough, and most
things too good for them. In the matter of food,
clothing, accommodation, and the like, they took
what was least desirable, and left what was best to
others, as being high above them. They grudged
themselves what was most necessary, and treated
themselves in everything as being of little or no
account. If anything went wrong, instead of allow-
ing the blame of it to settle on others, they were
ever ready to take it on themselves, and to apologize
as if the fault were entirely theirs.

Lastly, their ambition was to be as little thought
of by others as by themselves, to be treated by
others as they were wont to treat themselves. They
had an instinctive objection to marks of respect,
declining all honors if unnecessary, considering
them as arising from a mistake and anxious to
impress upon all how little they deserved them.
Admiration and praise were positively painful to
them.

These are the heights to which the Saints raised
themselves. How far above the reach, or even the
aspirations of ordinary Christians, — and even of
ordinary priests 1 We should at least look up rev-
erently to them, humble ourselves for being so devoid
of humility, and pray that we may not become entire
strangers to so necessary a virtue. If its higher
degrees are beyond us, at least the lower degrees, as
described above, are attainable, and we shall have

14 H)ailp TLbouQbts

done much for ourselves and for our work if v/e
make them ours.

^^Deus superbis resistit^ humilibus aiUe^n dat gratiam.^^

" The humble man God protecteth and delivereth ;
the humble He loveth and consoleth ; to the humble He
inclineth HimrSelf; on the humble He bestoweth boun-
teous grace y and after he hath been brought low, raiseth
him up unto glory. The humble man in the midst of
reproaches remaineth in great peace, for his dependence
is on God and not on the world.

" Never think that thou hast made any progress
until thou feel that thou art inferior to allP — Imit.

II, 2, 2.

Ube /iDeeft is

IV

THE MEEK

Beati mites, quoniam ipsi possidebunt terram,
" Blessed are the meek, for they shall possess the
land.^^ — Matt. v. 5.

J HO are the meek?
They are the gentle, the mild, the sweetly
patient ; they are those little concerned to
defend themselves against ill treatment, but relying
rather on God^s providence to protect and vindicate
them. Mites sunt, says St. Augustine, qui cedunt
improbitatibus et non resistunt malo, sed vincunt in
bono malum. Meekness is the natural fruit of de-
tachment and of humility. What inflames men to
anger and prompts them to revenge? The sense
of being hurt in their pride or in their interests.
Take away their concern for both, and all irritation
and vindictiveness subsides. Meekness, gentleness,
is also the outcome of that charity described by St.
Paul : Charitas patiens est, benigna est, non irritatur,
non cogitat malum. Omnia suffert, etc, (i. Cor. xiii.).
Meekness is the corrective of anger. Anger, like

16 Bails XTbougbts

all the other passions natural to man, is good in
itself and evil only when excessive (S. Tho. 2, 2,
9, 158). But it overflows easily, and needs constant
watchfulness to be kept within bounds, and this is
precisely the function of meekness. Meekness,
therefore, is not mere apathy, or a timidity that
paralyzes action ; neither is it mere softness or lack
of spirit. These dispositions, though real faults,
may produce not unlike effects ; they may facilitate
the practice of the virtue, but they are no substitute
for it, no constituent part of it. Meekness is most
needed by men of strong impulses, and its presence
in them is a sign, not of weakness but of strength.
It was one of the greatest and most difficult con-
quests of the Saints, a virtue harder to practise than
the greatest austerities.

To hold in check all impatience, all wrath, all
resentment ; to stand disarmed, as it were, in pres-
ence of injustice and violence, is one of the most
characteristic features of the Christian spirit. There
are few things that our Lord inculcated more forcibly
or exhibited more strikingly in His own person. He
came to establish the kingdom of God on earth, not
by violent conquest, but by gentle persuasion.
" Come and listen to me^^ He said, ^^ for I am meek
a7td humble of hearth He never employed his mirac-
ulous power to protect Himself. When in danger,
He yielded and withdrew up to the time divinely
appointed for His passion and death. And during
that terrible ordeal He bore all unresistingly, silently.

Ube /IDeeft 17

As the prophet had foretold : " He was led as a
sheep to the slaughter^ and as a lamb before the shearer
He opened not His mouths Thus it was that He
himself practised what He had so often taught his
disciples. In that extreme form by which he was
wont to emphasize His teachings, He had told his
followers (Matt. v. 39, 42) to yield to injustice and
not to resist evil, to love those that hated them, to
pray for those that did them wrong. When He
sent forth His apostles for the first time it was
like sheep in the midst of wolves, and when on
their return they spoke of bringing down fire from
heaven on the inhospitable Samaritan town, His
answer was : " P^ k7iow not of what Spirit ye areP
Again we may remark how often similar recom-
mendations occur in the writings of St. Paul. Non
vosmetipsos defendentes, sed date locum irae, . . . De-
ponite iram^ indignationem . . . omnis amaritudo et ira
tollatur a vobis. Noli vinci a malo sed vince in bono
malum. By these and similar lessons and examples
this new and heavenly virtue was planted in earthly
soil. And as it grew and spread, its mysterious
power asserted itself more and more. It is by sub-
missiveness and pliancy, by yielding, by enduring
v/ithout resistance, that the Christians won their way
in the world, and finally won the world to them.
It is by teaching gentleness, meekness, courtesy,
that the Church toned down the pride of the Roman
and the rough violence of the barbarian, and created
the Knight of the Middle Ages, no less conspicuous

18 H)ailB Ubougbts

for his tender regard for what was weak than for
his fearless bravery.

Gentleness is a special characteristic of the priest.
St. Paul, himself a striking model of the virtue,
points it out as a distinctive sign of fitness for the
ministry. " Thou^ O man of God^^^ he writes to
Timothy, '' pursue piety ^ charity^ patience^ mildness ^'^
" The servant of God must not wrangle^ but be mild
towards all men^ with modesty admonishing them that
resist the truths And in his direction to Titus re-
garding the choice of priests and bishops, he tells
him to select men of blameless life, neither proud,
nor hot-tempered, nor violent; non superbum^ non
iracundum^ non percussore7n.

This is the tradition of Christian ages all over
the Church. Wherever we meet a saint, however
strict he may be with himself, he is kind, forbear-
ing, gentle with others. His zeal for the glory of
God is always tempered with pity for the sinner.
And so should it be with every priest ; for what is
he, after all, among his fellow men but the represen-
tative of one who, when He came among men, was
the very embodiment of gentleness and mercy ? Ap-
paruit benignitas et humanitas salvatoris nostri Dei,
Alas! how often this so-called zeal has only suc-
ceeded in closing the hearts of men against priest
and Church, and led them to a total neglect of the
practices of religion, if not to final impenitence.

Ube /Bieeft i9

" O ye pastors^ p2it away from you all narrowness of
heart Enlarge^ enlarge your compassion. You know
nothing if you know merely how to coinmand^ to re-
prove^ to correct^ to expound the letter of the law. Be
fathers^ — yet that is not enough ; be mothers,''^ — Fe-

NELON.

20 Bails xrbougbts

THE MOURNERS

Beati qui lugent quoniam ipsi consolabuntur.
^'Blessed are they that mourn^ for they shall be
comforted" — Matt. v. 5.

HE sad and sorrowing, the suffering, the
poor, the little ones, oppressed and bur-
dened, are all alike. They are all weak,
helpless, neglected, and despised by the world.
They all need to be sustained and comforted. The
Messiah was expected to be the bearer of that bless-
ing to them and to the whole Jewish people trod-
den under foot by the Romans. ''Be co7nforted^
be comforted, O my people, saith the Lord" " The
Lord hath anointed me. He hath sent me to preach
to the weak, to heal the contrite of heart (the broken-
hearted), to preach a release to the captives, to com-
fort all that mourn" (Isaiah xl. i ; Ixi. i, 2). This
was the expectation of devout souls at the coming
of Christ, as we may gather from the words of the
Benedictus and of the Magnificat, as well as from
what the Evangelist tells us of the aged Simeon,
that he was " waiting for the consolation of Israel"

Zbc /IDoutners 21

This promised comfort is nothing else than the king-
dom itself, to be procured only initially here below,
but as a foretaste of its full enjoym.ent in heaven.
The burden of sorrow and suffering can never be en-
tirely removed from the human race, but it may be
indefinitely lightened. All modern progress tends
in that direction. There is now less of poverty,
of sickness, of great hardship ; less of injustice and
cruelty between man and man. Life in the average
is longer ; for the great majority it is broader and
more enjoyable. It has been lifted up and placed
on a higher plane. Human sympathy has been im-
measurably expanded, and has relieved in the same
proportion the weight of human affliction and sad-
ness. Now, this has been in a great measure the
work of the Gospel, the result of the coming of
Christ, and a partial accomplishmxent of his promise.
Yet how much still remains to be borne, and only
the harder to bear because of the growing refine-
ment of men's sensibilities, and the more striking
contrast of the hardships of the few with the
comparative ease and enjoyment of the many.
But here again Christ comes and administers a
manner and a measure of comfort of which he alone
has the secret. Pagan and Jewish philosophy had
often dealt with the problem of suffering, and could
see in it little more than a punishment dealt out by
the Divine justice. The stoics took a different view.
They endeavored to persuade themselves and to per-
suade others that suffering was not an evil, — an

22 Bails XTbougbts

undertaking in which they generally failed ; or that
it need never be excessive, since man can always
escape from it by self-inflicted death, in which they
succeeded but too well. One must read Seneca's
^' Consolations '' to realize how utterly powerless an-
cient philosophy was to administer comfort to the
afflicted ; nor are modern philosophers much more
happy in their efforts. They tell us indeed, and
truly, that suffering and sorrow are not without their
advantages ; that they sober down the thoughtless
exuberance of life, and bring back the soul to a truer
sense of things ; that by them, better than by any
other discipline, are some of man's best qualities
developed, — strength, endurance, compassion, help-
fulness ; that something of sadness accompanies
what is highest in the human soul, — great thoughts,
deep feelings, generous resolves; that the noblest
and most loving among men are those who suffer
most. All this is true; and as a speculation it
may be beautiful, and even beneficial to those who
love to look into the depths of things. But how
little genuine, abiding consolation it brings to those
who have to endure any great affliction 1 The
chosen people fared better. Enlightened from
above, they learned to see, hidden under natural
agencies, the hand of God punishing them for their
sins, individual or national, and thereby mercifully
compelling them to return to the path of duty.
The truly religious among them bowed humbly to
the Supreme Will, and bore submissively the calam-

XTbe /IDournets 23

ities which befell them, as we see so beautifully
exemplified in the Old Testament saints, — Job,
Tobias, David, and many others.

True comfort, however, came only with Christ.
It came with the sympathy — genuine, helpful, uni-
versal — which He taught His children to cultivate
towards every form of human suffering, and which
not only has lightened the sorrows of humanity in
an incalculable degree through Christian ages, but
has so embedded itself in modern civilization, that
even where faith has disappeared, active and large-
hearted philanthropy will remain.

Solace came directly and abimdantly from the
teachings of Our Lord regarding the purifying power
of suifering, whether voluntarily assumed or humbly
submitted to ; the immense and endless reward
beside which all earthly trials dwindle into insig-
nificance ; the assurance, finally, that God is a father,
ever near to the sufferer, even when he is seemingly
forgotten, and so lovingly watchful over him that
the very hairs of his head are counted.

Last of all but not least, consolation flows abun-
dantly from the sufferings of Christ Himself endured
for the sake of those who suffer. All the comfort
and peace that have come dow^n from the cross of
Christ into the hearts of His suffering children for
the last eighteen hundred years and continue to fill
them each day can neither be known nor imagined.
In these and other ways we have even in the
present the realization of the promise of Christ.

24 H)ail^ UbowQhtB

Beati qui lugent^ quoniam ipsi consolabuntur. Nor
has it stopped short at the mere assuagement of
sorrow or pain. In the highest order of Christian
Hfe it has become perfect contentment, positive joy,
— the joy of the apostles that they were deemed
worthy to suffer for Christ (Acts v. 41), the joy of
St. Paul in the midst of tribulations (11 Cor. 7, 4),
the joy of the martyrs, of all the saints v/ho found
the secret of positive happiness in the very midst of
suffering. Much of what Christ has thus promised
and gives to His suffering children reaches them
through the ministry of the priest. The priest is the
great comforter of his fellow-men. In the hour of
sorrow they readily listen to him. He leads them to
take a reasonable, hopeful view of things. He sug-
gests means of meeting difficulties. He is actively
and generously helpful when he is able, and, what
is often most welcome of all, he gives genuine sym-
pathy. Finally he lifts up the thoughts of the suf-
ferer from earth to heaven, recalls the consoling
truths of the faith, and points to the eternal reward.
O how full of faith, of generous compassion, of
tender love, must the heart of the priest be to fill
such an office 1

When I sink down in gloom or rear,

Hope blighted and delay'd,
Thy whisper. Lord, my heart shall cheer,

' 'Tis I ; be not afraid.'

Ube /iDourners

" Or startled at some sudden blow
If fretful thoughts I feel ;
^ Fear not, it is but I,' shall flow
As balm my wound to heal.

" And O ! when judgment's trumpet clear
Awakes me from the grave,
Still in its echo may I hear,

* 'Tis Christ; He comes to save."

— Card. Newman,

26 H)ailp XTbougbts

VI

THE MERCIFUL

^^Beati misericordes quoniam ipsi misericordiam con-
sequenturr

'^Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain
mercyT — Matt. v. 7.

ERCY, — compassion, — pity, — tender sym-
pathy for the sorrowing and the suffering is
one of the most conspicuous and distinctive
features of the Ufe which Christ came to estabhsh
on earth. He came to soften and expand the hearts
of men narrowed and dried up by selfishness. He
came to teach them to Uve not in themselves only, but
to share the joys and the sorrows of others. Much
of His teaching, as recorded in the Gospel, was in
that direction, and the strongest motives were set
forth to enforce the lesson. In the pictures He drew
of the last judgment He seemed to make all depend
on faithfulness to it : " Come ye blessed of my Father^
possess you the kingdom prepared for you. For I was
hungry and you gave me to eat ; I was thirsty and you
gave 7ne to driiik ; I was a stranger a7id you took me
in ; naked and you covered me^ sick and you visited

trbe /IDerciful 27

^^." Only such will Christ recognize as his fol-
lowers, only such will He accept from now as His
representatives among men. If compassion is an
essential quality in the ordinary Christian ; if there
is no room in the new kingdom for the hard hearted
and selfish, how much less can its honors and dig-
nities be bestowed upon them I The priest is chosen
to be the refuge and stay of all who suffer. Of him
they should be able to say what St. Paul writes of
Our Lord (Heb. iv. 15): ^'We have not a high
priest who cannot have compassion on our infirmities^
but one tempted in all things like as we areT

In the present age, more, if possible, than in any
other, the priest has to be alive to the needs of his
fellow-men. First, because no quality is more uni-
versally valued. The practices of prayer, of humility,
of self-denial may bring one nearer to God ; but the
world fails to appreciate these virtues, and the faith-
ful themselves are little moved by them, if unac-
companied by others more human. But the kind,
compassionate, helpful man wins the regard of all.

Next, pity for the needy and suffering is a virtue
widely cultivated to-day, even by those who profess
no religious faith. This unquestionably beautiful
feature of the age is doubtless an afterglow of the
Gospel where its direct radiance has been lost. But
since the world assumes, and is allowed, the merit of
it, the representative of the nobler form of charity
should not permit merely philanthropic works (to
which besides he ought not to remain a stranger),

28 Bails tlbougbts

to win a higher place in popular estimation than
those done under the inspiration of the Gospel.
Compassion in the ordinary man is too often either
narrow, or short-lived, or merely sentimental. Com-
passion in a priest should be the opposite of all that.
Broad, first of all, and far-reaching. There are
many who are moved only by poverty or by physical
suffering in their fellow-men. For those whom
anguish of soul, humiliation, disappointment, and the
like have touched, they have little sympathy ; and
what they bestow upon the others too often they are
ready to withdraw if they can persuade themselves
that those who claim their pity are unhappy through
their own fault. Not so the priest who has learned
his lesson from Christ. Like his Master he extends
his mercy to all, to the unworthy as well as to the
worthy ; to sinners as well as to the just. He is
sensible to every form of human suffering, alive to
every need, ready to respond so far as he can to
every call.

Again, worldly compassion is often ephemeral,
short-lived. It prompts to generous deeds, but it soon
turns away from the objects that excited them. The
habitual sight of privation, suffering, or sorrow is so
repugnant to the natural man, that he instinctively
strives to forget it. But compassion born of love
clings to its object and borrows strength from the
unceasing demand that is made upon it. The com-
passion of the true priest is, like that of his Master,
inexhaustible, never tired of helping, of giving. The

tlbe /IDerciful 29

bed-ridden patient is faithfully visited ; the solicitor,
though irrecoverably helpless, continues to receive
assistance; the ever-relapsing sinner is welcomed
and encouraged. Ingratitude stays the course of or-
dinary pity ; but the pity of the priest, proceeding
from a higher source, flows on unceasingly. While
keenly alive to the grateful feelings which his benefi-
cence awakens, he seeks not in them his reward, and
when they fail, the higher motive still sustains him.
Lastly, true priestly compassion is effective, that
is, actively and practically helpful. There is a pity
v/hich is all in words. True, sometimes words ex-
pressive of genuine sympathy and coming from the
heart are the most acceptable — it may be the only
acceptable — form of pity. But if only sympathy is
offered when help is needed, it is worthless.

*^ He that hath the substance of this world and shall
see his brother in need^ and shall close his heart agaifut
him, how doth the charity of God abide i7t him ? My
little children, let us not lo^e in word nor in tongue^
but in deed and in truth,^'' — i John iii. 17.

The same lesson is taught us by St. James (ii. 15).
'''If a brother or sister be naked and want daily f 00 d^
and one of you say to them : Go in peace ; be you
warmed and filled, yet give not those that are necessary
for the body, what shall it profit V^ Pity of this
kind is hollow, unreal. Genuine compassion is al-
ways helpful. It knows no rest until the need is
met, the suffering allayed.

30 2)atli? Ubougbts

VII

THE PURE OF HEART

^^Beati mimdo corde quoniam ipsi Deum videbjinty
''Blessed are the clean of hearty for they shall see
G^^^." — Matt.v. 8.

SHE ordering of the outer man is the first
stage of the moral life. The child, the sav-
age, the morally undeveloped think of little
beyond external conformity to a given standard of
conduct. Human legislation is powerless to go fur-
ther ; and although the Old Law embraced in some
way the w^hole man, it must be confessed that it con-
cerned itself chiefly with externals. As a conse-
quence, in the Jewish conception of duty, there was
a prevailing character of outwardness, which, joined
to an almost total disregard of inward culture, cul-
minated among the Pharisees in that ostentatious,
hollow form of religion to which posterity has given
their name.

Against such a conception of virtue the Gospel
was a universal protest. In the strongest terms Our
Lord denounced the life of the Pharisees as all
appearance and outward show, with nothing behind

XTbe pure of Ibeart 3i

it but what was worthless (Luke xi. 42 et seq?). He
explained repeatedly, as in Matt, xv., the comparative
insignificance of what was external, and proclaimed
that all that was really good or evil proceeds from .
the heart.

The heart, then, being the true«seat of religion and
moral goodness, the main concern of the follower of
Christ is to improve and embellish it. This implies
a twofold process ; first, that of planting and culti-
vating in it the seeds of the moral virtues ; and
second, that of weeding out whatever might impede
their growth. This second process it is which consti-
tutes the cleansing of the heart, and its result is that
purity placed by Our Lord among the Beatitudes.

There are numberless degrees of purity of heart,
as there are of defilement, yet they may be reduced
to a few general categories. The humblest consists
in exemption from mortal sin. In the state of sin
there are depths deeper and deeper, and to rise
from the lower to the higher is praiseworthy and
hopeful. But however much of evil the soul may
have shaken off, so long as she still clings to any
form of it, or has not been reconciled to God and
received the pledge of reconciliation in sanctifying
grace, she cannot in any sense be spoken of as pure.
She becomes substantially so by the reawakening of
the divine life within her. Still there may remain
the defilement of unforgiven, because unrepented,
venial sin. But even when that has disappeared,
other things may continue to tarnish her beauty, in

32 Bails ZbovLQbtB

particular those earthly inclinations which, though
not positively sinful, yet often lead to sin, and any-
how occupy the heart in a manner detrimental to the
higher and nobler feelings which might otherwise
fill it. To rid herself of those impediments, in so
far as they are voluntary, is the next stage of puri-
fication, a lengthened and tedious one, inasmuch as
the ill-regulated affections of the heart are ever
ready to break out in every direction, and can be
kept within bounds only by constant watchfulness
and unceasing effort.

When the soul emerges triumphant from the fight ;
when she has succeeded in detaching herself not only
from what is forbidden, but from what is displeas-
ing or less pleasing to God, from whatever might de-
tract from the freedom and fullness of His service
and love, then she has reached a high degree of
purity. Yet one higher still may be thought of. It
is that in which the ill-regulated impulses of nature
almost entirely disappear, leaving the soul in a con-
dition similar to that of the angels, or of little chil-
dren, or of our first parents, as we picture them
before the fall. That exemption from the corrupt
instincts of ' our depraved nature, perfect in the
humanity of Our Lord and in the Blessed Virgin, is
to be found in various degrees in God's chosen ser-
vants. With some it is a gift of early life, with
others the reward of a protracted fight against self.
But even where these unworthy impulses have prac-
tically disappeared, it would be a mistake to believe,

Zbc pure of Ibeart 33

as some authorities would seem to say, that from
such souls all affection has vanished save the love
of God. The truth is that all the normal, natural
affections remain ; the Christian virtues inferior to
charity continue to play their part ; but they are all
informed and regulated by the principle of love,
and the nearer the soul approaches to God, the more
love predominates as the animating principle of
action. It is easy to understand how purity of heart
thus cultivated, begets an especial fitness for the
kingdom of God here below and in eternity. In
one of his " Plain and Parochial Sermons '' Card.
Newman has beautifully shown how only pure souls
can enjoy the presence of God, so that holiness is, in
the very nature of things, a necessary preparation
for the happiness of heaven. Even to see Him, as
He can be seen here below, behind the world of
sense and in the depths of conscience, nothing fits a
soul like being emptied of earthly things. Hence
the distinctness and depth with which the Saints,
even when possessing little human culture, see into
the mysteries of the divine nature and the provi-
dential guidance of the world.

"^ on/y thy heart were rights then every created
thing would be to thee a mirror of life a?td a book of
holy teaching. There is no creature so little and so
vile, that it showeth not forth the goodness of God^

" If there be joy in the world, truly the man of pure
heart possesses it,''^ — Imit. ii. 4.

34 Bailp XTbougbts

VIII

HUNGERING AFTER JUSTICE

" Beati qui esuriuni et sitiunt justitiam quo7iia7n ipsi
saturabuntur,'^^

^^ Blessed are they that hunger a7id thirst after
justice^ for they shall have their flV^ — Matt. v. 6.

USTICE has not in the Bible the narrow
sense the word bears in modern usage. It
means general rectitude and integrity of
life, — moral goodness, complete in every direction.
Thus understood, justice represents the supreme law
of life. To strive for it, to realize it in a substantial
measure, is the duty of all. To long for it in a
higher degree, to hunger and thirst for its fullness
and perfection is the condition of the best and
noblest souls. That many such there were among
the chosen people, cannot be doubted, — souls
keenly alive to the holiness of God and to their ov n
imperfections and unworthiness, saddened by th
wickedness of the world, and sighing like Zachar}
the father of St. John the Baptist, for the time wlici:
sinners would be converted to God, and they them-
selves might " serve Him without fear iit holiness

IBunaerfna after Justice 35

and justice before Him all their daysT — Luke i. 74.
Such were the patriarchs and the prophets; such
David and the other writers of the psalms; such
Tobias, Judith, and numberless others whose names,
unknowti to history, are recorded in the book of life.
They craved for the reign of God in the world and
in their own souls.

The consummation of their wishes was to come
with the Messiah. " Orieiur in diebus ejus justitia
. . . suscipient monies pacem populo et colles justitiam^^''
as is said in the prophetic Psalm Ixxi. ^^Ecce in justitia
regnabit rex^'' says Isaiah xxxii. i. He prays for the
same (xlv. 8) " Rorate cceli desuper et nubes pluant
Justum ; aperiaticr terra et germinet Salvatorem^ et jus-
titia oriatur simul ; '' and Daniel points to the same
feature as characteristic of the Messianic reign :
" Adducatur justitia sempiternal

The promised Saviour came at length, bringing
with him that justice the Saints craved for. Not
perfect righteousness, for that is to be found only in
heaven, but virtue raised to a level never reached
before, and diffused with the Christian faith all over
the world. The immense moral change in the
human race thus effected by the coming of Christ
and by the abiding action of His Church is the
accomplishment, incomplete here below, as it should
be, yet invaluable, of the promise. But because of
the incompleteness of the fulfillment, the hunger and
thirst of perfect goodness continues to be felt in this
life by all truly Christian souls. Around them they

36 Bails UbowQhts

see evil still prevail to a frightful extent, and in
themselves they measure the distance which sepa-
rates them from that perfect holiness to which they
aspire. And while striving with all their might to
improve this condition of things, they long for some-
thing incomparably better, and they ever pray to
God to use His power to that effect. " T/iy king-
dom come; Thy will be do7ie o?i earth as it is i7i
heaven^ The advancement of God's glory, the
good of souls, their own spiritual progress, — these
are their great objects in this world. To put it in
other words : as the supreme wish of the sensual
man is pleasure, that of the covetous man money,
that of the ambitious man position and power, so
the supreme desire of these chosen souls is justice,
— the universal reign of God. And what they strive
for and pray for comes, according to the Saviour's
promise, already here below, but in God's own time,
and measure, and w^ay.

A craving for justice in the narrower and modern
sense of the term is characteristic of our age. In
the most civilized parts of the world, individuals and
peoples have a stronger sense of their rights, a
greater readiness to vindicate them, and the world at
large is in more active sympathy with them and with
ail those who suffer from oppression or wrong. In
the ancient world it was so common to see the weak
crushed by the strong, the poor despised by the
wealthy, the simple overreached by the artful, and

S^ixwQc^^^f attcr Justice 37

the honest by the unscrupulous, that the fact seemed
to belong in a way to the normal condition of things,
and passed almost unnoticed. Nor have things
much improved up to the present in countries un-
fashioned by the Gospel, such as Turkey, Persia,
Africa, and China. It is only where the reign of
Christ has been established that we find the weak
and helpless secure, v/omen and children sheltered
by the strong arm of power, and by the still greater
force of right universally acknowledged. Through
Christian ages the Church was the protectress of
the poor and the helpless, " t/te widow and the or-
pha?i,''^ Under her action arose the public institu-
tions and the public opinion which still protects them.
Political justice, social justice, human rights, so
much spoken of to-day, are only a further exten-
sion of the principles sustained and inculcated by
her through all ages. They may be exaggerated
in our time ; they may be mixed up with elements
of evil ; but in so far as legitimate, they are part of
the promise of Christ, and the Church would be un-
faithful to her mission if she did not recognize and
vindicate them.

The voice of the priest, who is her spokesman,
should, when discretion permits, be raised for the
right, never on any account for the wrong. No
transient advantage, no personal interest should lead
him in public or in private to sympathize with
wrong-doers, social, economic, or political. It is to
him that other men should look when they want to

H)afli? XCiiV^^rots

know what to think, to say, or to do. His sympa-
thies are instinctively with the weak; yet if their
claims are unjust he shows them no favor, for popu-
larity with him always yields to principle. He is
above parties, above individual or local interests,
the representative of what is fair, equitable, just;
and, for that very reason, he is respected and trusted
by all.

'^Qzii ad justitiam erudiunt multos^ quasi stellce in
perpetiias cetcniitates,''^ — Dan. xii. 3.

XTbe peacemafters 39

IX

THE PEACEMAKERS

" Beati pacifici quoniamfilii Dei vocabunfur.''^
^^ Blessed are the peacemakers^ for they shall be called
the children of GodJ^ — Matt. v. 9,

EACE, like many other words, has in Scrip-
ture a breadth and variety of meaning far
beyond its modern acceptation. With us
it signifies simply the absence of strife. In the
Bible it came by degrees to signify also positive
concord, friendship, security, happiness. In this
last and broadest sense it is commonly used in
the New Testament. It is also in that wide com-
prehension that the Redeemer is promised to the
world as the ^^ Prince of peace ^^ and that His reign
is to be a reign of '' Justice and abundant peace"
(Ps. Ixxi), that is of righteousness and happiness.
Peace properly so called, harmony with others, is,
of course, an element of that happiness, and Christ
came to bring back to men that peace ; peace with
God, that inestimable blessing so often referred to
in the New Testament as the first fruits of the

40 2)afli? UbouQbts

Redemption, and peace among themselves by mu-
tual forgiveness and mutual love.

But Christ only laid the foundation of both ; the
blessing itself must be the growth of ages and the
work of all men of good will v;ho help to bring their
fellow-men nearer to God and nearer to each other.
Blessed indeed are they who share in any degree in
a thing so welcome to God I Their place in the
kingdom is assured to them, and this is the funda-
mental meaning of the promise.

But they receive furthermore a glorious title, that
of sons of God, "vtot rov ©eoi)," ''^lu Dei^ And
well may they be called by that name, — the name
given to the angels in the Old Testament and even
in the New, for their work is a heavenly one and
worthy of the angels ; children of God too, because
like unto God who is a God of peace and love ;
children of God, because continuing the work of His
divine Son on earth; children of God in the full
sense of the expression, when they are admitted to
the rest and joy of the everlasting Kingdom.

The mission of peacemaker is in a true sense
that of all Christians ; but it is pre-eminently that of
the priest. The work of the redemption consisted
in restoring peace between God and the world ; St.
Paul describes it thus: (2 Cor. v. 19) " God was in
Christ reconciling the world to Himself P What Christ
did for all on the cross, the priest in His name and
by His divine power does for each one of those who
appeal to him ; through Him each one makes his

Ube peacemakers 4i

peace with God, and in him too God is present, re-
concihngto Himself His unfaithful children. " Deus
erat in eo mundu7n reconcilians sibiy Who can calcu-
late the relief, the peace, the joy he imparts day-
after day to sinful but repentant souls, when he
sends them away with the assurance of their for-"^
giveness ?

At the same time he is peacemaker between man
and man. When the harmony of domestic life is
disturbed in any degree among his people, he is
one of the first to know of it. He watches the
causes which, unchecked, will destroy the peace of
the household, — the waywardness, or the obstinacy,
or the selfishness, or the sensitiveness, or irritability
of some member of the family, and by timely warn-
ing and assiduous care he dispels the danger. If
coldness has already set in, or, worse still, if bitter-
ness of feeling or unkindness of action have
estranged from one another those who should live
closely united, the priest gently, discreetly, interposes,
soothing the irritated feelings, removing the causes
of misunderstanding, bringing back sunshine to the
darkened home. If contentions and quarrels arise
among his people, he is at once alive to the fact, and
is never entirely at rest until he has allayed them.
Immediate action may be unadvisable. He may
have to wait long before his blessed object is
achieved ; but he constantly bears it in mind, and
avails himself of every incident and opening that
may lead to it. Meanwhile his general influence,

42 Bails Ubougbts

reaching all his people, is of a sweet, soothing kind.
By teaching them to repress pride and selfishness
and to cultivate mutual forbearance and love, he is
steadily weakening animosities and stopping many
of them at their very birth.

But to do all this well, he has to be himself a man
of peace, affable, kind to all, on good terms with all.
To bring people together, he must have a hold on
both sides. He must be fair and friendly to all.
Moderation, tact, discretion, are some of his most ne-
cessary requisites. His views of abstract right must
be largely tempered by charity and a knowledge of
human nature. And if his action extends beyond
his own people, if he comes forth as the champion of
any great cause, his attitude has to be conciliatory,
his utterances discreet, his action visibly inspired by
the wish to benefit all right-minded men and entirely
free from personal ends.

" Keep thyself in peace^ and then shalt thou be able to
bring others to peace. Thou knowest well how to ex-
cuse thyself and glory over thine own deeds, but thou
wilt not accept the excuses of others. If thou wish to
be borne with, bear also with others ^ — Imit. ii. 3.

Zbc persecute& ^3

X
THE PERSECUTED

* ^ Beafi qui persecutionem patiuntur pj^opter jusiitia?7t,
quoniam ipsorum est regnum coelorumr

" Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice'
sake ^ for theirs is the kingdom of heaveii,^^ — Matt. v.

lO.

HERE is nothing for which Christ seems
more concerned to prepare His Apostles
than the active, violent opposition of the
world. He warns them repeatedly that they must not
expect to fare better than Himself ; that they will have
to suffer all manner of ill treatment on His account ;
that they will be taken up and dragged before unscru-
pulous judges, cast into prison and tortured; that
their very friends and relatives will turn against them
and betray them ; finally that they will be an object of
universal distrust and hatred among their fellow-
men.

Subsequent events abundantly verified the Sa-
viour's prediction. The lives of the apostles, so far
as we are acquainted with them, seem to have been
full of suffering and trials, and all ultimately crovmed

44 2)aib^ tTboucjbts

by martyrdom. St. Paul, the apostle whom we know
best, tells the Corinthians what he had to endure-
" Of the Jews five times did I receive forty stripes^ save
07ie, Thrice was I beate7i with rods^ once was I stoned ;
thrice I suffered shipw^^eck ; a night and day I was in
the depths of the sea. In joicr?ieying often^ i7i perils
of waters^ in perils of robbers^ in perils from my own
nation^ in perils from the Gentiles^ ifi perils in the city^
in perils in the wilde7'7iess^ i7i perils in the sea, i7t perils
from false brethren, I71 labor a7id pai72ful7iess, in miich
watchings, in hu7iger a7id tlmst, i7i fastings ofte7t, in
cold a7id nakedness r — 2 CoR. ii. 25. . . .

For three hundred years the history of the Church
is a histoiy of persecutions ; nor did they cease with
the conversion of Constantine. Under many of his
successors, confiscation, exile, prison, and death
were the lot of Christians true to their faith. In-
deed it may be said that at all times the good have
had to suffer, and to suffer ^' for justice'' sake;'''' that
is, because of their ver}^ goodness. The dishonest,
the corrupt dislike them, as interfering with their
pursuits and their pleasures, and because the ver}^
life of the just man is a protest against their meth-
ods. It is thus that they are described in the book
of Wisdom (ii. 12), " Let us therefore lie in wait for the
just because he is not for our tur7i (he is of no use to
us), and he is C07itrary to our doings, afid upbraidcth
us with transgressions of the law, and divulgeth agai7ist
us the si7is of our way of life. He is beco77ie a ce7isurer
of our tho2ighfs. He is grieiwus to us, even to behold, for

Zhc ©ersecuteb 45

/lis life is not like other merCs and his ways are very
different r

And so will it be, St. Paul tells us, to the end of
the world. " All that will live godly shall suffer per-
secution.^'' At the hands of the evil-minded, the good
will be made to pay the penalty of their goodness ;
the faithful and fervent will have to bear the criti-
cism of those who choose not to follow in their
footsteps ; converts to the true faith will forfeit po-
sition or fail to reach it because they have not
closed their eyes to the light ; bom Catholics will
seek in vain for what they might easily reach if they
were known to be indifferent to religious truth, or to
have eschewed all belief ; men of integrity who hold
office or fill positions of trust will be driven from
them because they refuse to share in the dishonesty
of others or interefere with their crooked v/ays ; at
every turn of life the conscientious will have to
suffer for conscience' sake.

The priest does not escape the common law. He
too has occasionally to suffer for justice' sake. He
may be led by a simple sense of duty or by the
impulse of zeal to a manner of action which is not
approved of by all. He is often found fault with,
criticized, not only by the ignorant, the thoughtless,
and the wicked, but sometimes by good peopie, and
even by his fellow-priests. But he finds an en-
couragement that never fails in the voice of his con-
science and in the promise of his Divine Master :
" Be glad and rejoice^ for your reward is very great i?t

46 2)aili? XTbouQbts

heaven!^ Yet he must be sure that what he has to
endure is not of his own making. With the best in-
tentions a man may be injudicious in his action,
indiscreet in his methods. His firmness may degen-
erate into obstinacy, his zeal into intolerance. He
may, under the name and cover of duty, become self-
righteous, narrow-minded, impatient of contradiction,
thus awakening opposition and leading to trials hard
to bear, but for which there is no reward.

^^ It is good for us sometimes to suffer contradictions^
and to allow people to think ill and slightingly of us^
even when we do and mean well.

" These are often helps to humility^ and rid us of vain
glory. For then we more earnestly seek God to be wit-
ness of what passes within us^ when outwardly we are
despised by men and little credit is given to us^ — Imit,
i. 12.

2tost ©pportunftfes 47

XI

LOST OPPORTUNITIES

" Si cognovisses / "

" If thou hadst known ! " — Luke xix. 42.

I HE thought which filled the mind of Our
Lord when He uttered these words may-
well haunt every serious mind, — the sad
thought of lost opportunities. God's mercies towards
His chosen people had been countless and their re-
sponse had been miserably inadequate. The crown-
ing grace was vouchsafed in the coming of Christ
himself. But " He came unto His own and His own
received Him notJ* Jerusalem in particular was hos-
tile to Him from beginning to end, and this, politi-
cally and religiously, sealed her fate. And so Our
Lord, as He crossed the summit of Mount Olivet and
looked down on the doomed city, forgot the clamor
of triumph which surrounded Him, and shed tears of
pity on the fate of His people blind to the value of
the gift offered to them for the last time. If only
thou couldst understand^ even at this last day^ what
would bring thee peace and happiness.

What Christ saw in the destiny of Jerusalem, each

48 2)aili? UbouQbts

man has to recognize in his own Hfe ; opportunities
of all kinds lost through thoughtlessness, or blind-
ness, or carlessness, or weakness. Who does not
find himself with natural gifts undeveloped, which,
if cultivated in due time, would have added con-
siderably to his usefulness ? How many are con-
strained to acknowledge that impatience of discipline,
disregard of counsel, love of ease and self-indulgence
in early life have unfitted them for the noblest tasks
of later years ! How often do men let go the chances
of making a due return in love and kindness until
those to whom they owe most are beyond their reach.
How often have they not to grieve over occasions
they let slip, to be morally, spiritually beneficial to
others, especially to those they knew and loved.
Kindness implying little sacrifice, a word of sym-
pathy, of encouragement, of timely advice, would have
done much ; but it was not forthcoming. And now
when they would give anything to be able to make
up for their coldness or carelessness, it is too late.

There are few, if any, more open to this manner
of regret than priests. Their opportunities for doing
good are so many and so great that it is difficult to
keep alive to them all. Yet they all bring with them
their corresponding responsibilities. Every soul that
opens itself to the influence of a priest, as he speaks
from the pulpit, or sits in the tribunal of penance, or
visits the sick, or listens to the story of trials, per-
plexities, and sorrows that are poured into his ear
day after day, — every soul gives him a fresh oppor-

%08t ©pportunftfes 49

tunity to do God's work and to gather fruit for life
eternal. Of those he misses, some he can never
recall : that unique occasion to stand up and speak
out at any cost for what was noble and true ; that
great charity which appealed to him in vain, because
it could be done only at the cost of some great
sacrifice ; that long-wished-for advantage, finally
secured, but at the cost of self-respect ; that friend-
ship preserved only by being unfaithful to principle.
These opportunities are rare, and if not grasped at
once are gone fosever, — gone like the souls a priest
might have won from sin, or lifted up to sanctity, if
he had been watchful, but which he suffered to go
before God as he found them.

Happily there are occasions which come back, op-
portunities which remain. The action of the priest
is mostly continuous, and what is missing in it at
one time may be made up for at another. Souls
neglected may become the objects of special care ;
works allowed to languish for a time may receive a
fresh infusion of vigor and recover all their useful-
ness. In many ways the past may be redeemed.
St. Paul speaks on several occasions of " redeeming
the time^^ (Eph. v. i6; Col. iv. 5); that is, making
the most of the present and its opportunities. This
is a m-eans ever open to those who have to grieve
over past losses. While life remains, they can al-
ways begin afresh, take up new and still higher
purposes, organize new campaigns, fight new battles
and win them.

50 2)ails UbouQbts

XII

THE WORLDLY SPIRIT

" Non sapis ea qucB Dei sunt^ sed ea qum hominumJ^
" Thou savorest not the things that are oj God^ but
the things that are of ma?t" — Matt. xvi. 23.

[|LL through the New Testament a contrast
is estabhshed between the spirit of God
and the spirit of the world; between
^'worldly wisdom ^^ and ''the wisdom from above^
" The wisdom of this world ^^^ writes St. Paul (i Cor.
iii. 19), '' is foolishness before God ^^'^ and St. James
(iii. 15) calls it ''earthly^ sensual^ devilish H'' It is in
the same sense of condemnation that the world itself
is spoken of again and again by Christ himself.
Closed against the spirit of truth, it hates Him and
all those who belong to Him ; it rejoices because
He goes away, but its triumph is, in reality, vain,
for He has conquered the world.

There is, then, in this world, and in some sense
identified with the world, a power that is hostile to
Christ, that counteracts His influence and tends to
destroy His work. What is that power ? It is the

Ube TKHorlMy Spirit 5i

unregenerated spirit of man, or man without the
Gospel.

All, assuredly, is not evil in the natural man.
There still remain in him the natural virtues, a fund
of integrity, of humanity, of nobleness. Even un-
' assisted by divine grace he can perform many actions
invested with moral goodness. But these are not
his predominant features. In the average man the
evil elements prevail. His impulses and actions
are incomparably more in the direction of evil than
of good. He belongs to Satan more than to God.
By the very nature of the case, a world composed
of such men is hostile to Christ, and the very pur-
pose of His Gospel is to counteract the spirit which
animates it. Hence a struggle which is destined to
last to the end of time, inasmuch as the opposing
forces are both indestructible. "// is this^^^ says
F. Faber (" Creator and Creature," p. 362), which
makes earth such a place of struggle and of exile.
Proud, exclusive, anxious, hurried, fond of comforts,
coveting popularity, with an offensive ostentation of
prudence, it is this worldliness that hardens the hearts
of men, stops their ears, blinds their eyes, vitiates their
tastes, and ties their hands so far as the things of
God are concerned^ The condition of man before
the Deluge, as described by Our Lord, was one of
worldliness rather than of sin. So was that of the
rich man in the parable. The Pharisees were
essentially worldlings. There was much respectable
observance, much religious profession among them ;

52 Bailp ZboiXQhts

yet in the judgment of Our Lord, they were further
from grace than publicans and sinners. They were,
in fact, all through His public life the worst enemies
of his person and of His Gospel.

The worldly spirit has its degrees. It may reign
supreme in a soul, causing her to consider everything
in the light of temporal success and enjoym.ent, with-
out any thought of God or of life beyond the grave.
But much more commonly it mingles in varying pro-
portions with the better elements of the soul, and
even with her supernatural gifts. It allies itself with
real faith, genuine zeal, and all the other virtues.
This may be seen in the severe rebuke administered
by Our Lord to St. Peter soon after his well-known
confession. " T/ioz^ savorest not the thmgs that are of
God, but the things that are of men^ It is after they
had received the gift of working miracles that James
and John are reprimanded as not knowing to what
spirit they belong. This danger besets all Christians,
even those whose calling is the holiest and whose
intentions are the best. The wisdom of the world
is full of seduction. It looks so practical, so well
balanced, so full of moderation. It falls in with
what is most acceptable in man's natural instincts.
In fact, from the very first the difficulty was to escape
from the snares of the world, not at its worst, but at
its best. Hence the false security which it begets
and the ease with which it is followed ; whereas to
understand the wisdom of the Gospel, and to follow
it, demands unceasing watchfulness and constant
exertion.

Zbc morlDlB Spirit 63

A good priest may become worldly ; a tepid priest
is almost sure to be so. His tepidity will usually
take the form of worldliness. He will observe the
external proprieties of his calling, and get a name
for practical wisdom, but there will be little prayer
in his life, little humility, little self-denial. Even the
good priest is ever in danger of allowing the spirit
of the world to supplant the spirit of the Gospel in
his soul. It is hard to live in a place and not im-
bibe its spirit. It is in the air one breathes, in the
numberless objects that strike the senses. It is con-
veyed in every conversation. Hov/, then, is the
priest to escape it ?

By watchfulness and prayer, — by being ever on
his guard, ever purifying his motives, ever praying
for help from above.

*^/am de mundo non estis^ — Joan xvii.

5i 2)ails XTbougbts

XIII

OPENINGS

" Ostium mihi apertum est magnum et evidensP
" A great door is opened to me^ — i Cor. xvi. 9.

|WICE in writing to the Corinthians, St.
Paul uses the same expression. Once he
tells them of the lengthened stay he makes
at Ephesus, " because a great door is opened to him,^^
On another occasion (2 Cor. ii. 12) he mentions
the disappointment he feels at being unable to avail
himself of the opportunity of diffusing the Gospel at
Troas where " a door was open to him in the Lord,''^
In these expressions dropped unconsciously it is
easy to recognize the apostle, — a man who has
only one thing at heart: to convey the Gospel of
Christ to all men.

Whoever has any important object at heart is
always watching for opportunities to advance it.
The merchant is ever seeking for fresh openings to
enlarge his trade. The lawyer, ambitious to rise in
his profession, watches for cases in which, irrespec-
tive of pecuniary profit, he may find an occasion to

©penings 55

display his powers. The aspirant to civic or poUti-
cal honors eagerly grasps every opportunity to win
popular favor. And so the true messenger of Christ
is ever watching for fresh openings to further the
cause of the Gospel and the spiritual good of his
fellow men, and ever prompt to detect them, prompt
to avail himself of them, and to forget all else in the
pursuit of what his heart is set upon. Such we find
St. Paul from the hour of his conversion to that of
his death. Such were the men of God chosen in
various ages to continue the work of the apostles.
In all we notice the same singleness of purpose, the
same readiness to avail themselves of every opening
they could find for the work to which they had
devoted their lives.

Every day when a priest awakes to his work and
looks around him, how truly may he repeat the
words of the Apostle : '^ A great door is open to me f^'*
There are doors wide open every day and all day
long: sinners not far from the Kingdom of God,
ready in fact to yield to the first touch of a
priestly hand ; or souls careless in the performance
of their duties and leading a life of lukewarmness,
yet not ill-disposed, and only waiting for a little help
to turn to a life of fervor ; or, it may be, a whole
generation of children, susceptible, if properly han-
dled, of the happiest and most abiding impressions.

And then there are occasional openings, in regard
to individuals or to certain classes, such as non-

56 Dails UbouQbts

Catholics or unbelievers ; circumstances especially
favorable for the establishment of a confraternity, of
an association for young people or for old, of some
blessed devotion from which the happiest results
may follow in due time.

The zealous priest is quick to notice such oppor-
tunities, and prompt to avail himself of them.
Hence the striking difference between the field he
cultivates and that around him. In the one there is
exuberant fertility; in the others, barrenness and
decay. One would say that while the spiritual life
accumulates in the former, it is slowly drained out
of the latter. The careless, the indolent, the easy-
going priest fails to recognize such openings, or if
he notices, he fails to study them, because he in-
stinctively fears that a closer knowledge of them
would reveal possibilities such as to destroy the
quietude he would fain continue to enjoy in his life
of inaction and ease.

Am I alive to the interests of God, eager to ad-
vance them, ever watcliing for openings to do so,
ever making the most of them when they come?
The more they are availed of the more numerous
and the more inviting are they. The saints met
them at every turn of their daily life.

Zhc IDofce ot (5o& 57

XIV

THE VOICE OF GOD

" Loquere^ Domine^ quia audit servus tuusP
" Speak, Lord, for thy servant hearetk.'^ — i Kings
iii. lo.

|0D speaks to man in many ways. Only to
a few, and to them but rarely, does He
speak in the form of a miraculous commu-
nication ; in other ways, however, His voice is heard
by all. He reveals Himself in Nature. " The earth
is the Lord^s and the fulness thereof. ^^ Everything in
nature, if only thoughtfully looked at, proclaims its
Maker. " The heavens show forth the glory of God
and the firmament declareth the work of His hands ^
— Ps. xviii. I.

To the religious mind which sees things beneath
the surface, God speaks in history ; He speaks in
passing events, public and personal, which faith, like
a divine light, often makes transparent. But more
directly, more audibly, more universally, God speaks
to man through his conscience. For the voice of
conscience, commanding, approving, rebuking with

58 H)afli? ZbonghtB

supreme authority, is and can be but the voice of
God. It is heard indeed in the depths of the soul,
and is one of the functions of our moral nature.
But that nature God so fashioned as to give forth
when touched His own law, just as ingeniously con-
trived instruments are made to gather in human
utterances and to repeat them at will.

And then we know that man, especially the Chris-
tian, is not left to his unaided faculties. The gi'ace
of God is ever present, stirring them up and strength-
ening them. What we hear, therefore, in the silent
chambers of the soul is not merely the voice of our
moral nature echoing the voice of God; it is God
Himself emphasizing, as it were, that same voice,
and causing it to be more distinctly and more accu-
rately heard ; the two voices, that of our moral na-
ture and that of grace, being so blended together
that, like two notes in unison, they reach the ear as
one.

Thus God speaks to us all day long, sometimes in
loud, imperative tones, sometimes in gentle whispers.
At one time He commands or warns ; at another He
gently suggests and persuades. For he speaks net
only to intimate or to recall positive duties, but also
*^/^ s^ow a more excellent way^^'^ — the way of the
counsels.

Often, too, in the night, when the stir of life has
subsided and all is silent around us, does that voice
reach us still more distinctly, especially if we lie abed
sleepless. Then, indeed, it not unfrequently happens

Ube IDoice of (Bob 59

that the reaUties, the duties, the responsibiUties, the
mistakes, the fauhs, the failings of daily life or of
lengthened periods stand out before us with a dis-
tinctness and a vividness unknown at any other
time. But whenever and however the voice reaches
us, our duty in regard to it is to listen and to obey.

^^ To listen,''^ like the Psalmist: '' Audiafn quid lo-
qiiatur in me Dominusr For, without listening, much
will be lost of the warnings of conscience and of the
promptings of grace. The sound of the alarm clock
awakens those who have accustomed themselves to
obey the signal. If they disregard its warning for
some time, they cease to hear it. So men's con-
sciences are hardened and deadened by not being
heeded; they are sharpened and made ever more
delicate by constant attention. Just as the trained
ear of the expert detects sounds which go unnoticed
by ordinary people, so the man of tender conscience
catches appeals from within and from above which
are lost to all others. The saints were admirable in
this regard. They had trained themselves to heed
the faintest soimds of the divine voice.

But we listen only " to obeyT If obedience followed
not on hearing, better not hear at all. ^^ He that
knew not and did things worthy of stripes^"^^ says Our
Lord, " shall be beaten with few stripes; but the servant
who knew the will of his master and did not according
to his will shall be beaten with many stripes ^ — Luke
xii. 47. Knowledge always entails responsibility.
Listening and obeying comprise everything. ^''Blessed

60 2)afli? UbouQbts

are they who hear the word of God and keep it,^^ —
Luke xi. 28. Men are invited to do both through
fear or through love. The slave is attentive
and he is obedient. He watches the least sign
of his master's will, and he hastens to carry it out,
because he apprehends the consequence of failing in
either. Love reaches the same results, but more
easily and more fully. When a mother reposes near
the couch of her sick child, she listens even in her
sleep, and the least sign of discomfort in the little
sufferer awakens her. So is it with those who love
God. They are alive to the slightest indications of
His will, even in circumstances most calculated to
distract their attention. '^ I sleep ^^^ says the spouse
in the Canticle, " and my heart watcheth,^'* And as
they hear they obey promptly, joyfully, generously.
" Loquere Domine quia audit servus tuusT

" Good is the cloister^ s silent shade^
Cold watch and pining fast ;
Better the mission^ s wearing strife^
If there thy lot be cast.

Yet none of these perfection needs;

Keep, thy heart calm all day,
And catch the words the Spirit there

From hour to hour may say.

Ube Uoice of (Bot) 6i

Tfien keep thy conscience sensitive;

No inward token miss ;
And go where grace entices thee ; —

Perfection lies in this,^^

Faber.

62 2)ail» Uboufibts

XV
THE DIVINE FRAGRANCE OF CHRIST

" Chrisfi barms ador sumusP

" We are the good odor of ChristP — 2 Cor. ii. 15.

|T. PAUL speaks of himself and of his dis-
ciple Titus, but his words apply to all those
who are called to share in the same work,
and who pursue it in the same spirit. The true
priest is at all -times *' the good odor of Christ, ^"^

Sweet-smelling substances are grateful to all.
Orientals in particular have shown a special love for
them at all times. *' Ointments and perfumes rejoice
the heart ^^'' says the sage (Prov. xxvii. 9). Isaac in-
haled with pleasure the fragrance of Jacob's gar-
ment as the latter approached to receive his bless-
ing (Gen. xxvii. 27). God Himself is spoken of
(Gen. viii. 21) as welcoming the sweet savor of the
holocaust offered by Noah, and right through the
Levitical law the burnt offerings are referred to as
^^ holocausts of sweet odor,'''' The Canticle of Can-
ticles is, so to speak, all laden with perfumes ; and
Wisdom (EccL. xxiv. 20. 21) represents herself as

Zbc 2)ipine ffragrance ot Cbrist 63

enriched with aromas of the most varied kinds.
Perfumes were part of the gifts offered to Our Lord
by the wise men at the beginning of His mortal Ufe,
and by Mary Magdalen toward its close. The chief
value of the ointment she poured out on the feet of
her Lord was its fragrance, which, St. John tells us,
filled the whole house (John xii. 3).

This helps us to understand the higher and
broader sense of the expression as applied to Our
Lord Himself. He is the source of the mysterious
fragrance which fills the souls of His children, and
which is a participation of His spirit and of His
very life. The priest is the medium by which it
reaches them. But, just as material objects, in
order to transmit an odor, have first to become
impregnated by close and continuous contact with
the source from which it emanates, so the priest, in
order to spread the divine fragrance of Christ around
him, has to live in close contact with his Master,
has to become familiar with His teachings, to
imbibe His spirit, — in a word, to share more abun-
dantly in His life. Without that, he may be active,
intelligent, eloquent ; yet he will not carry with him
the ^^ good odor of Christ.'''' If, on the contrary, he
daily imbibes that spirit, if he fills his thoughts with
the Gospel, if, according to the counsel of St. Paul
(Phil. ii. 5), he " has thai inind in him which was also
in Christ Jesus,''' then indeed he may go forth and
mingle with his fellow men, for everywhere he will
bring with him the Saviour's heavenly fragrance.

64 Dail? Ubougbts

Its presence in him is not slow to reveal itself.
Just as a sweet odor goes forth of itself from a body
saturated with it and in a way to be noticed by all, so
the spirit of Christ goes forth from a true priest and
pervades the atmosphere that surrounds him — a
spirit of piety, of faith, of humility, of love — and
nobody can approach without in some measure enjoy-
ing it. Of Our Saviour it is said that " all the mul-
titude sought to touch Him, for virtue went out from
Him and healed alL''^ — Luke vi. 19. So is it with the
pious priest ; a virtue is ever going forth from him,
and healing a number of moral infirmities around
him. And even when he is gone, something of his
sweet spirit lingers behind, revealing his passage ;
and people will sometimes say, as the disciples
of Emmaus said of Our Lord after He had dis-
appeared from before their eyes : " Was not our
heart burning within us whilst he spoke in the way V* —
Luke xxiv. 32.

Thus is the holy priest the good odor of Christ.
But what is the tepid, the careless, the worldly
priest? What does he bring with him when he
mingles with his fellow men, and what does he leave
behind him ?

Must we answer with the prophet Isaiah: "m/
pro suavi odorefcetor ? "

" Ea debet esse vita et conversatio sacerdotis^ ut omnes
motus et gressus, atque universa ejus opera ccelestem
redoleant gratiam,^'' — S. Hieron.

Ube fforgivina Spirit 65

XVI

THE FORGIVING SPIRIT

" Dimittite et dimitteminiy

" Fo7'give and you shall be forgiven,^'^ — Luke vi. 37.

IF all the moral features introduced for the
I first time into the world by the Gospel,
I there is none more characteristic than the
law of forgiveness. The pagan world knew nothing
of it. Not to take revenge on those at whose hands
one had suffered a wrong, was in its eyes a weak-
ness and a dishonor. History tells of one of its
heroes whose boast, at his last hour, was that no one
had done more good to his friends or more harm
to his enemies. Nor was the Jewish spirit much
different, as may be seen all through the Old Testa-
ment. The Law itself compounds with the blind
impulse of revenge, allowing retaliation to the extent
of doing to another as much harm as one has
suffered from him. In the Sermon on the Mount,
Christ lets us see how the popular maxims of the
day formulated and emphasized the privilege ; but
He refers to them only to condemn them.

66 Bailp Ubougbts

Revenge He forbids in the strongest and most un-
qualified manner, — not once but repeatedly, — not
as a counsel, but as a rigorous precept. ^'-Forgive
and you shall be forgiven. Judge not and you shall
not he judged, Condeinn not and you shall not be
condemned. With the sa7?ie measure that you shall
mete withal^ it shall be measu7'ed to you,''^ — Luke

vi. Zh 3S.

This emphatic lesson, we may add, comes in the
shape of a development of Our Lord's answer to the
inquiry of Peter as to how often tie should forgive.
** JVot only seven times but seve7ity ti?nes seven ti7?ies ; "
that is, indefinitely. In the Sermon on the Mount
He goes farther still, completely disarming, as it
were, His disciples in presence of wrongdoers.
" You have heard: ^ A7t eye for an eye a7id a tooth for
a tooth ' ; but I say to you not to 7'esist evil ; but if 07ie
strike thee on thy right cheeky turn to hi7n the other also,
, . . I say to you : love your enemies ; do good to the7n
that hate you^ and pray for them that persecute a7id
calumniate you.'^^

The whole doctrine is emphasized in the most
striking manner in the parable of the unfaithful
steward who refuses to show leniency to his fellow
servant (Matt, xviii. 23). Surely the clemenrv
and liberality of his master should have taiig
him to be, in some degree at least, merciful and
generous; but as he thinks only of his rights he
forfeits the incalculable favor bestowed upon him.

Thus hope, fear, shame gratitude, everj^ powerful

Zbc fovQivUxQ Spirit 67

motive, is appealed to in turn to win his pardon
for the offending one. And in order that the lesson
should not be at any time forgotten, Our Lord
embodies it in the prayer which He -left for the
daily use of His children through all ages : " J^or-
give us our trespasses as we forgive them who trespass
against usT

Generally speaking, a good priest has little to for-
give. Yet he may have enemies. He may have made
them without knowing it, simply by faithfulness to
some obvious duty. Sometimes he may be provoked
to anger because he has been meanly treated, or
unjustly accused, or defrauded of his rights. His
good name may have suffered from unfriendly and
unfair criticism. He may have to suffer from an
habitual opposition to his views and methods in
those with whom he lives, or from a lack of regard
for his convenience or for his feelings. And though,
at any given moment, the friction may be only slight,
yet its continuance may prove very trying, and give
rise to irritation and a wish to retaliate. But he
hears in the depths of his soul the voice of Christ,
repeating the law of forgiveness ; and it is echoed in
the minds of all around him ; for a priest lenient to
those who have offended him and ever ready to
defend them, is what the people look for ; but the
sight of a priest, hard, unforgiving, vindictive, would
shock and sadden them.

" Forgive and you shall be forgiven."

68 2)ailB UbouQbts

" Thus Christ has placed our fate in our own hands.
We are made our own judges. To each one He says :
' Choose, pronounce ; my sentence will follow thine.
Forgive and thou art forgiven ! Who can expect to be
spared if he will not spare himself 'I " — Chrysost. in
Matt. xix.

Hsftina ^Forgiveness 69

XVII

ASKING FORGIVENESS

" Sz offers munus tuum ad altare^ et ibi recordatus
fueris quia frater tuus habet aliquid adversum te^
relinque ibi munus tuum ante altare et vade prius re-
conciliarifratri tuo, et tunc veniens offer es munus tuumP

" If thou offer thy gift at the altar ^ and there thott
remember that thy brother hath anything against thee^
leave there thy offering before the altar ^ and go first to
be reconciled to thy brother ; and then coming thou
shall offer thy gift'' — Matt. v. 23.

O make reparation for any pain inflicted,
voluntarily or involuntarily, on another ; to
explain, to apologize, and thereby to assuage,
if not to remove entirely, the discomfort caused, is
so obvious a duty and so natural an impulse, that it
would seem unnecessary to recall, still less to em-
phasize it. Yet Our blessed Lord does both. He
knows that what seems so easy often proves diffi-
cult, and that what should be the universal practice
is but too likely to be neglected, even among His
followers.

TO H)aili? UbouQbts

To escape the obligation, excuses are not wanting.
It is alleged that if pain was caused it was not in-
tended, or that it arose, not from what was said or
done, but from the obtuseness, or the mental obliq-
uity, or the extreme sensitiveness, or the exorbitant
claims of the aggrieved one. And if the wound was
inflicted voluntarily, it is claimed that it was done
under provocation, or in self-defence, or even for the
positive benefit of the sufferer.

But such excuses are generally insufficient. If I
have involuntarily misled another in a way to incon-
venience him, I feel bound to correct the mistake.
If I have momentarily interfered with his possessions
or with his bodily comfort, I am obliged to cease as
soon as I notice the undue interference. Why should
I be less constrained to withdraw that whereby I
have wounded his feelings ?

When it is only a question of explaining, of re-
moving a misunderstanding, there is no excuse for
omitting it. It is when we have to acknowledge
ourselves at fault that the duty becomes more un-
pleasant; but it is then also that its performance
does us most credit. To confess one's faults or
mistakes, to acknowledge and to undo the evil one
has done, is always noble and beautiful. There is
nobody more ready to apologize than a gentleman.
A disregard for the feelings of others is the outcome
of coarse feeling, or of pride, or of hardness of
heart.

There is no lesson more forcibly inculcated by

Hsfttng fovQivcncss 71

Our divine Lord than that of forgiveness of those
against whom we have a grievance, great or small.
But in the present instance He teaches us to ask
forgiveness. He supposes that another has some-
thing against us, real or imaginary, and He would
have us dispel the cloud that has arisen between us.
This can be done, as a rule, only by taking a step of
the kind He recommends. " Fade reconciliari fratri

tuor

Friends whom some sort of unkindness has sepa-
rated may bear each other no malice ; yet if they
nurse their grievance in silence, they are almost sure
to magnify it and to widen the separation. Only by
meeting afresh can be removed what divides them.
In strict justice it would be for the guilty one to move
first. But each one may have or believe he has a
grievance against the other, and is naturally more
keenly alive to his own side of the case. He will say
to himself : Let the other come to me ; I am ready to
meet him. But if the other says the same, it prac-
tically means endless estrangement.

If we would lead others to acknowledge their
share of the responsibiUty, the best way is to accept
fully our own. Our generosity will shame them at
least into justice. Hence Our Lord makes no dis-
tinction. He considers only the feelings of the
aggrieved one, and bids us win back his friendship.
And this he would have us do '^ at once^'' just as
St. Paul, says Chrysostom, would not have the dark-
ness of night find anger still alive in the bosom of

72 2)aili? ZhowQhts

the Christian. " Zef not the sun go down upon your
anger. ^'' — Ephes. iv. 26. So without delay Christ
would have us repress it in the hearts of others.
He fears that the soHtude of the night may aggra-
vate the pain. The occupations of the day divert
the thoughts of the sufferer from it, but left to him-
self in the night he becomes absorbed in it. And
why should the dart be left rankling in the flesh of
another if it can be withdrawn at once ? Go then,
says Our Lord, go without delay ; suspend the sacred
action already begun. Though welcome to God,
there is something still more welcome to Him, — to
be at peace with thy brother, and to remove all
sadness and bitterness from his heart.

The manner of carrying out the injunction will
be easily found if one only enters into the spirit
from which it proceeds. As a rule the sooner mis-
understandings are removed the better. Neglected,
the sore is liable to fester ; yet it is sometimes better
to let it heal of itself. There are petty grievances
which had better be ignored. There are explanations
which had better not be entered into. They might
lead to fresh altercations and do more harm than
good. A kind act, a bright smile, an unmistakable
token of affection, may do more than aught else to
remove misapprehensions or atone for thoughtlessly
inflicted wrong. A priest has to be mindful of all
this. In many ways, without meaning it, he may
cause pain to those with whom he lives or to those
to whom he ministers. There is much more sensi-

HsftiuG fovQivcncsB 73

tiveness in people than they exhibit. If he finds
that he has wounded any, he should consider it a
duty and a pleasure to administer the healing
remedy in the happiest and most appropriate way.

^^ Non dixit: Cum graviter offensus es tunc reconcil"
iari ; sed, Etiam si leve quidpiam contra te habuerit.
Neque adjecit : Sive Juste sive injuste^ sed simpliciter,
Si habuerit aliquid adversum /^." — Chrysost. in
Matt. xvi. 9-10.

74 Daili? XLbowQbtB

XVIII

BELONGING TO CHRIST

" JVbn estis vestrV^

" You are not your own^ — i CoR. vi. 19.

\ N one sense, and that the most obvious, no
man is his own. God made him. He sus-
tains him at every moment in existence.
Man has nothing, is nothing, but from God. He be-
longs to God in such a way that no human possession
or right can give any adequate conception of it.

Yet it is not in reference to these indefeasible
claims of God that St. Paul denies to men the right
to dispose of themselves. It is because of their
relations with Christ. Christ redeerjied them ; that
is, He bought them back. He purchased them at
the cost of His life. They are, therefore. His, not
their own. His rights over them are unlimited.
He may call them out at any time as His soldiers,
or as His slaves, and require of them any service,
even if leading to the sacrifice of their lives.

But His actual demands on them are infinitely
less. Indeed, He came to lighten for His people
the burden of the law which these traditions had

Belonging to Cbrfst 75

rendered unbearable. ^'' His own cGmmandments are
not ^^^z{y," writes St. John (i. v. 3), and He himself
assures us that " His yoke is sweet and His burden
light, ^^ not only because of the love that helps to
bear it, but because of the fewness of the precepts
that He enjoins on His followers. Thus the Chris-
tian enjoys in the ordinary course of life almost
the same freedom as other men, and is practically
as much his own as they claim to be ; yet the
freedom is like that of a child in his father's house,
— wide and pleasant, but limited by love and by
an ever-present disposition to obey.

But what is left by God at the disposal of His
children, they can bring back to Him at any time,
and offer as a free and loving gift. This is the
meaning of religious vows ; and, so far as they ex-
tend, the consecrated soul is 7to longer her own. And
what is done in obedience to a vow may be done
freely. Thus St. Paul describes himself as free,
but relinquishing that freedom for the good of others ;
** liber essem Ofnnibtis, omnium me servum feci (i
Cor. ix. 19). . . Omnibus omnia f actus sum ut omnis
facerem salvos,^'' His proudest title, the one he most
rejoices in, is that of servant, or rather, slave of
Christ ; that is, of one who had given up his free-
dom to Christ and was no longer his own.
Such is the true condition of the priest. In the
eyes of many he is independent and free, much
more than the ordinary man ; in reality few are so
constrained and tied down as he is. By his vocation

76 H)ail» UboxxQbts

freely accepted he belongs to the work of the priest-
hood. He is no longer his own. This is one of
the fundamental differences between a profession
and a vocation. A man chooses a profession, he
chooses it to suit himself, and follows it to any
extent he thinks proper. In a vocation, the choice
is not his ; he is chosen, and simply responds to the
call. He gives himself up to the work with all he
is and all he has ; his time, his talents, his knowl-
edge and culture, his health — if needs be, his very
life. Like St. Paul he is ready at all times to spend
and to be spent for th.e souls of his people ; " ego
aiitem libentissime impendam et superimpendar ipse
pro animabus vestris^ — 2 CoR. xii. 15. Habitually
to withdrav/ anything from that fulness of service ; to
devote any notable part of his energies to other pur-
poses ; to divide his life, and give one share only
to the ends of the priesthood, making over the rest
on whatever he may fancy, would be lowering his
vocation to the level of an ordinary profession.
The priest is a steward in charge of interests not
his own. He is a servant, a sen^ant of all work,
expected to be helpful all round and all day long.
He can work for nobody but his Master. His rule
is that of Our Lord himself ; "7^ tui quce Fatris mez
sunt oportet me esse.^^

Priests of God, you are not your own.

Renovation ot Spirit 77

XIX

RENOVATION OF SPIRIT

^^Admoneo te ut resus cites gratiam qucB in te est per
impositionem manuum mearumr

" I admonish t?tee that thou stir up the grace of God
which is in thee by the imposition of my hands, ^^ —
2 Tim. i. 6.

HE grace which St. Paul here speaks of has
come to every priest in his ordination.
Secular dignities bring nothing to the soul
of the recipient, but sacred authority comes laden
with divine gifts. With it is imparted to the soul a
twofold grace ; a grace of sanctification which lifts
her up to a higher sphere of divine life and brings
her nearer to God; a grace of help from above,
ever present, and aiding both to recognize the re-
sponsibilities which have been put upon her and to
be faithful to them. In other words, a priest, by
the grace of his ordination, has at all times a special
assistance from God to see where his duty lies and
to do it. He has special impulses special warnings
as to what is suited or unsuited to his condition, an

78 H)atl^ Ubougbts

intuitive sense of the proprieties of the priesthood
and, at the same time, a facility to conform to them
seldom found outside that sacred calling. The un-
believing world finds it difficult to give him credit
for the life of chastity, of charity, of self-devotion,
which he professes to follow ; the more reflective
among the faithful look up to him with admiration ;
but he knows himself that he is as weak as any
among them, and that, like St. Paul, his strength
comes from God. " By the Grace of God I am what
I am^ — I Cor. xv. io.

St. Paul adds : *' and His grace in me has not been
void,'' thereby giving to understand that, like all the
other graces of God, the grace of ordination is only
a help, acting, not by itself, but in conjunction with
the free will of the recipient, and which consequently
may be neglected, and, as happens to all unused
vital powder, may gradually lose its energy. The
spirit of faith, of reverence, of piety, of zeal, so
prominent in the life of a young priest, may gradually
decline, so as to make him, after a few years, very
unlike his former self. This, indeed, is wdiat almost
infallibly happens, unless the downward tendency
be counteracted by unceasing vigilance and untiring
effort. St. Paul was apprehensive lest such a mis-
fortune should happen to even his beloved Timothy.
Wherefore he writes to him : ^' Neglect not the grace
that is ifi thee!''' — i Tim. iv. 14.

Grace may be neglected and wasted in various
ways: by positive, conscious resistance to its

IRenovatfor of Spirit 79

promptings ; by fickleness of purpose, making obe-
dience uneven and unsteady; by thoughtlessness
and mental dissipation, which prevents the voice of
God from being heard, and His divine impulses from
being felt in the soul. But whatever the cause, the
result is always the same, and always deplorable ; a
gradual blunting of the moral and spiritual sense, a
hardening of the heart to divine influences, a con-
stant loss of power.

But it is always possible to rescue one's self from
such a condition ; to rekindle — the very expression
used by St. Paul (dm^wTrvpetv) — the smouldering em-
bers, and fan them into a bright flame. Sometimes
the work is easy enough. There are events which
suddenly throw back a soul upon herself, and give
her the true measure of her weakness and destitu-
tion. Or, again, God lights up directly the hidden
places within her, and fear, or love, or a salutary
sense of shame, does the rest. But, as a rule,
recovery is slow and difficult. It is is often easier
to escape from sin than from tepidity. Yet it can
be done, and by the usual, divinely appointed
methods : constant striving, wathfulness, and prayer.

" I admonish thee that thou stir up the grace of God
which is in thee by the impositio7i of my hands.^^

80 H)afli? XTbouobts

XX

THE SERVANT OF CHRIST

" Domine^ quid me vis facere ? "
^'Lordy what wilt Thou have me to doV — Acts
ix. 6.

N act of submission to God's will, and a
general profession of readiness to carry it
out, may mean much or little, according
to the real disposition, half-hearted or generous, of
the speaker. The words of the text, uttered by
St. Paul when he was cast down by the powerful
and merciful hand of the Saviour, have to be
understood in their broadest and fullest sense.
They were the cry of unconditional surrender, a
protestation of unlimited obedience to Him whom
he then and there recognized as his Lord and his
God; and his whole subsequent life tells us how
fully and faithfully he kept his word. The life to
which he was called was not to be an easy or a
pleasant one. On the contrary, it was to be one of
much trial and suffering, and he was told so from
the beginning. " I will show him^^^ says Our Lord

XCbe Servant of Cbrfst 8i

to Ananias, " how great things he must suffer for my
name's sake ; and, later on, as he goes up to Jeru-
salem, he is v/amed that " bonds and tribulations "
await him there. " But I fear none of these things^' he
says, " nor do I make my life of any accowit^ so that I
may consummate my course and the ministry of the
word which I received from the Lord fesusT — Acts
XX. 23, 4. And further on in the same journey,
being cautioned afresh as to what awaits him, he
replies : '' What do you mean weeping and afflicting my
heart 1 For I am ready not only to be bounds but to
die also in ferusalem for the name of the Lord fesusT

And such, in a humble measure, has every true
priest to be. He is, as St. Paul loves to call him-
self, the servant, the slave of Christ, engaged in His
personal service, bound to carry out His will in all
things and to know no other law. ^'Lord, what wilt
Tnou have 7ne to doV This is the keynote of his life.

I . Lt is^ to begin with, that of his vocation. He
aspires to the priesthood, not for the comforts, or the
emoluments, or the credit it may bring with it ; not
even primarily for his own spiritual benefit, but for the
loving and devoted service of Him whose voice he
recognized in the call. He joins the ranks to be the
soldier of Christ, to fight His battles, and to bear
bravely the hardships of the campaign. The pros-
pect of pleasures to forego, of sacrifices to make, far
from deterring, invites him all the more, since it
gives him a precious opportunity of proving his
devotion.

82 H)aili? tlbougbts

2, It is his guiding prificiple in critical emergen-
cies. There are occasions where various courses
are open to him, all allowable, all honorable, but net
all equally welcome to God. It may be a position
to seek for, or to accept, or to decline ; or, again, a
work outside his ordinary duties. Now to make
his choice, the true priest has but one rule to go
by, one question to ask: " Domine, quid vis me
facere ? '* The answer which he hears within him
may be to the natural man most unwelcome ; it may
point to the sacrifice of some much-wished-for bene-
fit or enjoyment, or to the performance of some
tedious, ungrateful task, or to a course likely to be
misunderstood and censured. It matters not. If
in it he recognizes the will of the Master, it will be
done at any cost.

^. It is his rule of each day. The servant or the
workman v/hose occupations are varied, waits every
morning on his master, or his employer, to have his
daily task assigned to him. In like manner the
priest, alive to his true condition, realizes from his
first awaking that he is not free to do as he likes
with the new day that dawns upon him. His first
thoughts therefore revert to his Master, and his first
concern is to know what He expects of him. This
is one of the objects of his morning meditation, to
look into the day that is before him, and to measure
the work that he is expected to do for the honor of
Christ and for the good of souls. " lord^ what wilt
Thou have me to doV Happy the priest v/ho, in

Ube Servant of Cbrlst 83

great things and in small, is thus ever guided by a
sense of loyalty to his Lord. Happy the priest
whose life from beginning to end is one of loving
obedience. He need not fear death, for at what-
ever time the Master may come to call him away, he
will be found watching, working, ready. " Blessed
is that servant whom when his lord shall come, he
shall find so doing^ — Luke xxiv. 46.

84 Dailp ZbowQhts

XXI

PITY

" Misereor super turbam,'*^

" / have compassion on the multitude.^'* — Matt.
XV. 32.

HRIST, the incarnate Son of God, was all
compassion. Compassion for fallen man it
was that brought Him down from heaven
and led Him up to Calvary. His Incarnation and
His death, as seen in the light of faith, are deeds
of supreme, boundless pity, such as man could
never have looked for or imagined. To accomplish
them the Eternal Son had to divest Himself, or
as St. Paul says, " to empty Himself *' — " exinanivit
semetipsum^^ — of attributes and privileges seem-
ingly inseparable from His divine nature.

And as compassion inspired His coming, so it per-
vaded and colored His whole mortal life, revealing
itself at every step under the most touching forms,
and extending to every shape of human misery.
Thus in reading the Gospel one cannot fail to notice
in the first place how strongly physical suffering

pits 85

appealed to Him wherever He met it. " He went
about ^^"^ says St. Matthew iv. 23, '' healing all manner
of sickness and every infirmity among the people, ' ' The
blind, the paralyzed, the deaf and dumb, were
lead to him, " atid they were all healed, ^^ The most
loathsome forms of disease were powerless to repel
Him. He gently laid His hand upon the stricken
ones and they were cured. Those poor outcasts,
the lepers, approached Him freely and were restored
to health. In short. His whole public life is filled
with such mercies. Nobody ever appealed to Him
in vain. Even when not appealed to, the very sight
of human suffering was enough to move Him. He
was not asked, he was not expected, to raise to life
the poor widow's only son ; but he saw her utter
bereavement and that was enough. ^'' He gave him
to his mother,^'' — Luke vii. 15. And so with the
sufferer at the pool of Bethsaida. He finds him ex-
hausted and disheartened by his thirty-eight years of
helpless misery, and by his long unavailing expecta-
tion beside the pool ; at once He bids him to arise
and walk. And so again with the blind man whose
story is so graphically told in the ninth chapter of
St. John.

He is not less alive to the more common needs
of those around Him. When the crowds followed
Him into the desert and, in their eagerness to hear
Him, forgot their necessary sustenance. He is mind-
ful of it. It is on one of these occasions that He
spoke the touching words recorded by St. Matthew

86 JDatls Ubougbts

(xv. 32) : " I have co7npassio?i on the multitude because
they continue with me now three days and have not what
to eaty and I will not send them away fasting, lest they
faint in the way ;'''' and that thereupon he v/rought
in their favor the wonderful multipHcation of the
loaves and the fishes. The very sight of the grief
of Martha and Mary was enough to move Him to
tears ; while, at the wedding feast of Cana, He ac-
tually wrought a miracle in order to prolong the
enjoyment of the assembled guests and spare a
humiliation to those who had invited them.

That tender regard for the feelings of others
reveals itself most strikingly in His treatment of
those who were specially despised or hated by the
Jev/s. He visits the Samaritans and stays several
days with them, speaking more openly of Himself to
them than He had done to his ovv^n, and subsequently
w^e ab>vays find him referring to them in terms of
kindness. Nor is His action different with regard
to the publicans. He visits them, He eats with
them, he chooses one among them, St. Matthew, for
an apostle. If His enemies upbraid Him with the
favor He shows them, He answers by the declara-
tion, that it was, after all, for sinners He had
come.

Indeed, His tender pity for sinners is perhaps the
most striking aspect of His divine compassion.
There was in His soul a horror of sin beyond any-
thing that the human mind can imagine. The Saints
tell us in their writings how loathsome sin v.^as in their

Ptt» 87

sight ; and they had but a faint image of the reality,
for God alone can see sin in its true light. And yet
how lovingly He pictures sinners in the parables of
the lost sheep and of the Prodigal Son ! With what
merciful condescension He welcomes them when
they approach Him I How effectively he repels the
accusers of the woman taken in adultery I How
warmly he pleads the cause of Mary Magdalen
repentant at His feet I How generously he promises
to the penitent thief an immediate share in His
Kingdom 1 At the bidding of the Pharisees and the
priests, Jerusalem had repeatedly declined to listen
to Him. He had been constantly opposed by those
in power. Yet at the very moment they were plan-
ning to take away His life, He forgets their obsti-
nacy, their perverse blindness. Looking down from
Mount Olivet on the devoted city, He weeps over
her impending fate : " Videns civitatem flevit super
illam;^^ and one of His last words on Calvary is a
touching appeal for those who had nailed Him to
the cross : ^^ Father^ forgive them ^ for they know not
what they do^ Thus the life of Our Lord from
beginning to end was an unceasing exercise of the
purest, the holiest, the most generous and most in-
dulgent compassion.

Who would not love one so merciful and good ?

Who would not strive to be like Him ?

88 Bails ZhowQbts

XXII

HOW TO BEAR HONORS

^^ Redorem te posueruntl Noli extolli; esto in illis
quasi unus ex ipsis. Cur am illorum hahe!^'^

" Have they made thee ruler ? Be not lifted up : be
among them as one of them. Have care of theni^ and so
(then) sit down.'''' — Eccl. xxxii. i.

I HE advice of Ecclesiasticus is addressed, as
may be seen by the context, to the steward
chosen to preside at a festive celebration ;
but it applies without distinction to all men invested
with authority. For it is the universal tendency of
those who have been raised, it matters not how,
above their fellow-men, to turn what was given them
for the public good to self-exaltation and personal
profit.

Even those intrusted in any degree with spiritual
power are not exempt from the temptation. They,
too, are apt to forget from whence they have been
taken, to look down upon those to whom they ori-
ginally belonged, and, in the enjo^/ment of their
privileges, to lose sight of the very work for which

fjow to asear Donors 89

they were chosen, — to minister to the needs of
others. That such a disposition showed itself from
the very beginning, we may gather from the warning
of St. Peter (i Peter v. 3) to the ^''presbyters " of
his time, not to lord it over their flocks, but rather
to win them gently by their examples ; and history
shows how the evil was ever breaking out afresh in
subsequent ages. " The pride of Church dignitaries,^^
says St. Jerome (in. Cap. 18, Ezech.), " is wont to make
their power oppressive,^'' zm^ the Fathers, as Ambrose,
Gregory, Bernard, are incessantly reminding them
of the lesson of Ecclesiasticus. It is good, there-
fore, for us to consider it and take it to heart.

" Have they made thee a ruler ? Be not lifted up ;
be among them as one of them. Have care of the7n,
and when thou hast aquitted thyself of all thy charge,
(only then) take thy placed In other words,
" remember that thou wert at first no better than those
who are now placed under thee ; and that thou still
remainest in reality only their equal ; nay more, that,
in a true sense, thou hast become their servant, since it
is for them, not for myself that thou hast been raised
in dignity ; and, therefore, as it is the duty of the host
to attend to his guests, and to think of himself only when
they have been provided for, so shouldst thou forget thy
very needs in thy co7icern to ininister to the needs of
others, ^^

Have I done so hitherto? Has my life in the
priesthood been a life of entire consecration to the
service of God's children ? Is there not in me a

90 S)afli? ZboviQMB

tendency to make it a life of self-seeking, in which
the love of worldly honors, of comfort, of sensual
enjoyment, is gradually superseding the pursuit of
God's honor and the love of souls ?

Do I keep alive within me the sympathies which
bind the heart of a priest to his people ? Do I truly
remain one of them — " ^^ among them as one of
them^^ — never looking down even on the weakest
or the worst, never hard or unfeeling, but tender,
compassionate, helpful, cordially sharing the joys and
the sorrows of all ? Do I remember all day long
that I belong to them, not to myself, and that the
very names by which my calling is commonly desig-
nated, — officium^ — ministerium, — are expressive
not of dignity, but of duty; not of the rights of a
master, but of the menial duties of a servant ?

This is the law laid down by Christ himself to His
apostles : ''he that will be first among you shall be
your servant ^^'' — Matt. xx. ; and this St. Paul so
admirably practised : " / made myself the servant of
ally — I Cor. ix.

" Ufide cuncti qui prcesunt non in se potestatem debent
ordinis sed cequalitatem pensare conditionis ; nee proeesse
se hominibus gaudeant^ sed prodesseJ^^ — Greg. M. ii
Pastor, 6.

Self-Denial 9i

XXIII

SELF-DENIAL

" Si quis vult post me venire^ abneget semetipsumP
" If any man will come after me^ let him deny him-
self ^ — Matt. xvi. 24.

ENI AL means properly the contradiction of
a statement. But in Scripture, as well as
in common use, it is applied also to persons.
Peter is said to have denied his Master; and Christ
himself threatens those who deny Him before men,
that He will deny them before His Father who is in
heaven. To deny, thus means to disregard, to
ignore, to disown. And it is in this sense that Our
Lord speaks of denying one's self He is the first to
use the expression thus ; and, as employed by Him, it
means that to follow Him, — to the death of the cross,
if needs be, — '' tollat crucem suam,'*^ a man must thrust
aside all care and concern for himself, must dis-
regard the instincts of his nature that make him
shrink from suffering and death, and go forth in the
service of his Lord to meet whatever awaits him.
If he is held back by. the love of ease and enjoy-

92 Dafls UbouQhts

ment, by the fear of privation and suffering, he
cannot face the consequences of the Christian
profession. He must, therefore, learn to refuse
himself such pleasure as may interfere with his
purpose. This is self-denial. *' If you know^^ says
St. Chrysostom, ^'-what it is to deny, that is, to disown,
to ignore another, then you know what it is to deny
yourself. If you make no account of a?i individual,
you heed not his appeals, nor are you affected by his
sufferifigs. Self denial means dealing with yourself
in a similar fashion,^'* " In its perfection, " says St.
Basil, " // implies a renunciation of everything, even of
life. Perfecta renunciatio in eo sita est ut de vita
sua ne minimum affectus sit, quamvis habeat mortis
responsum,^'' S. Gregory (32 in Matt.) draws a dis-
tinction. between detachment from external things
and self-denial : " Minus est abnegare quod habet,
valde autem multum est abnegare quod est, Non sufficit
ergo nostra relinquere nisi relinquamus et nos^

Self-denial, then, is but a means to an end ; by set-
ting a man free, it enables him to devote himself
to the service of God. The fuller the service, the
greater that self-surrender or self-sacrifice has to be.
Self-denial may, therefore, be practised in various
degrees.

I. There is a degree in which it has to be practised
in order to ensure faithfulness to essential duties
or to avoid grievous sin. ^^Relinquamus nosmet-
ipsos quales peccando nos fecimus, qui superbus fuit, si
humilis f actus est seipsum reqlinquit Si luxuriosus

Selt-2)enial 93

quisque ad continentiam vitam mutavit abnegavit ita-
que semetipsu7ny This is the lowest of all ; yet for
those who are under the influence of any strong
passion, it implies an heroic effort, and becomes
the source of a high degree of merit. To obey
the law of God the intemperate man, the volup-
tuous man, the hot-tempered, the resentful man
has to practise a high order of self-renouncement,
which often fails to be appreciated as it ought.

2. The second degree is that which is necessary
for the avoidance of venial sin — in itself a higher
degree, because it extends to a much larger number
of cases, and generally implies greater strictness.

3. The third degree corresponds to the avoidance
of the occasions of sin, even where one is not strictly
bound to do so. Certain forms of indulgence are
known to weaken the power of resistance to tempta-
tion, or to deaden the conscience, or to lead to minor
faults, and are sacrificed on that account. It is
easy to see how much this widens the field of self-
denial.

4. Finally there are pleasures ever so harmless
in themselves and ever so sweet to the individual,
yet he gives them up in view of the higher good of
the soul and the greater honor and glory of God.

This is truly and purely religious self-denial. The
other degrees are conceivable on rational grounds,
and have been practised more or less by the ancient
philosophers. Here we enter into the region of
faith, and of life seen in the light of God. The

94 H)afls XTbougbts

Saints show the way. They were terribly cruel to
themselves. They waged war fiercely on their flesh.
They denied themselves the most natural and the
most harmless enjoyments; they fasted, they fiogged
themselves ; no heartless master ever treated a slave
as they treated their frail and fragile bodies. The
world witnesses their action, and calls it fanaticism
and folly. Many half-enlightened Christians respect
it, yet at heart they believe it to be a mistake. But
the mistake is all theirs. Behind them the Saints
have the unvarying tradition and teaching of the
Church, around them the incomparable influence
they wield over their contemporaries, and above
them the sanction of God himself in the miraculous
power with which He gifted them.

"*S?/ thyself^ then, like a good and faithful sen^ant
of Christ, to bear manfully the cross of thy Lord for the
love of Him who was crucified for thee,

** Prepare thyself to suffer many adversities in this
miserable life, for so it will be with thee wherever thou
art,

" Drink of the chalice of thy Lord lovingly, if thou
desirest to be his friend and to have part with him,^^ —
Imit. ii. I2-IO.

Ubrougb Beatb to %iU 95

XXIV

THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE

" JVisi granum frumenti cadens in terram mortuum
fuerity ipsum solum manet ; si autem mortuum fuerit^
multum f7'uctum afferty

" Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground
die, itself remaineth alone ; but if it die it bringeth
forth much fruit!''' — John xii. 24.

HAT Our Blessed Lord thus sets before
us, is not merely a fact of the material
world; it is a type of what is about to
happen in Himself, and at the same time the revela-
tion of a general law extending to His followers
and to mankind at large, — the law being this, that
the highest ends and fullest expansion of life are
reached only by sacrifice ; often by the sacrifice of
life itself.

It was so in His own case. In His secret in-
terview with Nicodemus, He tells how He is to
be lifted up like the brazen serpent in the desert,
that all who believe in Him may be saved. Later
on, speaking to the Jews (John viii. 28), He refers
to the time when He shall have been lifted up by

96 Wail'Q ZhoviQbts

them. On Mount Thabor, where He enjoys a
visible anticipation of His glorified humanity, the
subject of His discourse with Moses and Elias is
His approaching passion : " ^/ dicebant excessum ejus
qiiem completurus erat in Jertisalein ; " and after His
resurrection He reminds the disciples of Emmaus
that it was the divinely appointed plan that He
should reach His glory only through His sufferings
and death : ^^ Nonne haec oportuit pati Christum et ita
i7it7'are in gloriam suam ? " The indissoluble con-
nection of the two is clearly before His mind when,
referring to the grain of wheat, " The hour is come,'**
he says, " that the Son of Man should he glorified; '*
that is, that the glorious work for which He came
should be accomplished ; but it must be at the cost
of His life. Like the grain of wheat, He must die
to give life to the world ; and, recurring once more
to His favorite expression. He adds f John v. 32),
" And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, I will draw
all things to my self, ^^

Such then was the price of the salvation of man-
kind, as freely ordained by the divine Wisdom and
freely consented to by Our Saviour. But it was
also the price at which the apostles were admitted
to share in the blessed work. Long before His
death He had warned them of this (Matt, x.) :
'^ Behold, I send you as sheep in the midst of
wolves. . . . They will scourge you in their syna-
gogues . . . and you shall be hated by all men for
my fiame^s sake, . . . Fear ye not them that kill the

XCbrougb Beatb to %\tc 97

^ody and are not able to kill the soulP And in His
last discourse, He reminds them of it again: ^''Re-
member my words that I said to you : The servant is
not greater (that is, has no claim to be better off)
tha?i his master. If they have persecuted me they will
also persecute you^ — John xv. 20. They, too, Uke
the grain of wheat, had to die in order to produce
the rich harvest of souls that was to spring from
them. And so was it through the early ages of the
Church. The blood of martyrs was the seed of
Christians, as Tertullian said : " Sanguis martyrtwi
semen est Christianorum,''^ And so will it be to the
end of time. In the eyes of civilized man and
savage alike, the strongest argument in favor of
a doctrine is to be found in the sacrifices made by
those who propagate it ; the sacrifice of life, if need
be, and, in a minor degree, the sacrifice of ease,
fortune, country, home. This is the secret of the
success of our missionaries abroad, and of the most
influential and venerated priests around us.

Indeed, it may be said that sacrifice is the con-
dition of success in every sphere. The explorer,
the reformer, the statesman, the soldier, have all to
relinquish much of the lower pleasures of existence.
Their life is not, and cannot be, a life of ease and
enjoyment. They have, to use the Biblical term,
*' to die " to many things, if they would be successful
in their respective pursuits. Of nobody is this
more true than of the priest. His life can be truly
fpoilful to himself and to others only on condition

98 H)aili? ZhouQbts

of his dying to the natural Hfe ; that is, of volun-
tarily foregoing many pleasurable things within his
reach ; at one time, emolument, at another, advance-
ment; here, the enjoyment of family, there, the
comforts of an easy life. Only in proportion as he
relinquishes these things, to say nothing of those
forbidden, does he grow in personal holiness and
in public usefulness. " Unless the grain of wheat
falling into the ground die^ itself remaineth alo7te ;
but if it die it briiigeth forth much fruits

" Behold in the cross all doth consist^ and all lieth in
our dying ; and there is no other way to life but the
way of the Holy Cross and of daily mortification^^ —
Imit. ii. lo.

Ubc %ovc ot Cbil&ren 99

XXV

THE LOVE OF CHILDREN

*' Smite parvulos venire ad me^ et ne prohibueritis
eoSy talium enim est regnum Dei^

" Suffer the little children to come unto me and for-
bid them not ^ for of such is the Kingdom of God^ —
Mark x. 14.

HE priest should love all his people. There
is no age, no condition of life, no degree of
I worthiness or unworthiness, which has not
its special claims on him. When the pastor of
souls considers in succession the various members
of his flock, he finds in the individual circumstances
of each something that goes directly to his heart.
But to none does he feel more sweetly drawn than
to children, and to none should he more readily
devote his time and labor.

I. He learns to love them from the example of
the Divine Master himself. Nothing is more touch-
ing in our Lord than His tender regard for these
little ones. They instinctively gather around Him.
With their parents they follow Him into the desert,
and share in the miraculous meal of the loaves and

100 Dailp UhowQbts

the fishes. And He, in His divine condescension,
welcomes them, caresses them, gives them His
blessing. The scene described by St. Mark in his
brief, graphic way, shows beautifully how He felt,
and doubtless how He w^as wont to act in their
regard : '^ And they brought to Him young childreii
that He 7night touch them, and the disciples rebuked
those that brought them. Whom when Jesus saw, He
was much displeased a?id saith to than : Suffer the little
children to come unto me and forbid thein not, for of
such is the Kijigdom of God, . . . And, e?nbracing them
and laying His hands upo?i them. He blessed ihein,''^

2. What drew thus the heart of Our Lord towards
children He Himself is careful to tell us: ^^ For of
such is the Kingdom of Heaven^ Their condition is
most like that of the a,ngels, and fittest to appear
before God, — fittest also for His kingdom here
below, under the law of the Gospel. And this is
why the priest, whose business is to build up that
kingdom, loves little children. Already and without
effort they are vv^hat He wishes all to be. Children
are naturally without guile, artless, harmless, incap-
able of doing any serious injury. Their minds and
souls are transparent. They are strangers to the
passions and defilements of later years, and nearer
to the condition of angels than to that of fallen
man. They are for a time ignorant of evil, and
w^hen, later on, the knowledge of it comes, it only
awakens in them at first a sense of horror. And
if its taint reaches their souls in any degree, it

Ube %ovc of Cbilbren loi

remains on the surface and is easily removed, or
drops off of itself. The child is naturally humble.
He looks up to those around him as stronger and
wiser than himself. He turns to them instinctively
for guidance and for help, and is docile and obedi-
ent in most things without effort. He is trustful,
hopeful, little concerned about the future ; just
what Our Lord taught His followers to be. And
this is why the priest turns to children as the purest,
the heavenliest part of his flock.

In the child, besides, he sees already the Christian
of later years, and watches with delight his earliest
impressions, in order to cultivate the seeds of good-
ness implanted in him by the Creator, to check,
and, if possible, to destroy, the budding shoots of
evil. No soil is more fertile, more responsive to
intelligent cultivation, than the souls of children.

But to be successful in this blessed work much
patience is necessary and much kindness. The
priest must begin by winning the affections of his
children, and nothing is easier. He meets them
at every step, on the streets, at Sunday-school, in
their homes. They look up to him with awe, as
to a mysterious preternatural being, and attach a
special value to what comes from him. A little
gift, a kind word, a pleasant smile, a simple recog-
nition, is appreciated by them. Children were wont
to follow St. Francis de Sales on the streets of
Annec37, and into his house or into the Convent
of the Visitation, as if drawn by an irresistible

102 H)aflB XTbouabts

attraction. There is no more pleasing trait in a
priest than to be popular with the children, nor are
there many more helpful to him in his work. By it
he not only reaches and holds the children them-
selves during the important period of their moral
and religious training, but he also reaches the
hearts of their parents, for nothing is more welcome
to them than what is done for their little ones.

" Hi pair 6771 sequu7itur^ 77tatre77i aTnant, proxifno
velle malu77i tieschmf, cura77t opU7n negligunt, non
insolescwit^ 7t07t 77te7itm7ztur, dictis credu7tt, et quod
audiu7it veruTn habeTit Reverte7tdii77t est igitur ad
si7nplicitate7n puerorum quid eos ea collocate speciem
hu7nilitatis DoTuiniccd circumfere7nusy — S. Hilar, in
Matt.

Cbrfst tbe Comforter los

XXVI

CHRIST THE COMFORTER

" Veiiite ad me omnes qui laboratis et onerati estis
et ego reficiam vosP

*' Come unto me all you that labor and are burdened^
and I will refresh you" — Matt. xi. 28.

T is to the whole world and to all ages, that
this tender invitation went forth from the
heart of Our Lord. Those who heard it
spoken, thought only of themselves and of the end-
less Pharisaic prescriptions and practices which ex-
hausted their energies, and weighed them down like
an unbearable burden. And to them, indeed, and
to their troubles did the words of the Master refer
immediately. But they meant much more. His
appeal and His promise extended to all human suf-
fering and sorrow. The very first time He preached
in a synagogue, He took for His text the prophetic
words of Isaiah : *' The Spirit of the Lord is upon me^
to preach good tidijtgs to the poor ; to proclaim release
to the captiveSy recovery of sight to the blind, to set
at liberty those that were bruised ;" and he added,
*' This day is fulfilled this Scripture; " that is, I shall

104 DaUp ZbowQhts

accomplish all that is promised. And ever since,
He has kept His promise with all those who have
turned to Him in their trials.

What He promised was not the removal of suffer-
ing, for suffering is a divinel}^ appointed discipline
in this world, correcting, warning, calling back to
God those who forget Him, as nothing else can do.
But often there is too much of it for human weak-
ness to endure, and then its beneficent effects are
liable to be lost, and manifold evils to take their
place. There are sorrows that crush the soul, or
waste all her vitality ; acute bodily suffering, chronic
illness, humiliation, loss of position or fortune, re-
peated disappointment, and failure. Unsustained by
faith the soul sinks under them, or settles down in
a condition of abject misery. But the Christian
hears the loving voice of the Saviour calling him :
" Come and I will refresh you!'''

He comes, and, first of all, he learns from his
Divine Master that it is good for him to suffer:
^^ Beati qui lugent;^^ — that his trials are m^eant to
wean his affections from earth, and turn them
heavenward; that the pain he endures is of short
duration, and the reward without end; that if he
be a sinner, the present is the best time to ma^ke
atonement, and that humble submission is always
the most welcome homage to God.

And then Christ spreads out before him His own
life so full of privation and sorrow. He shows Him,
as He did to St. Thomas, the w^ounds in His hands

Cbrist tbe Comtortet 105

and His feet ; He allows him to see into the depths
of His sacred passion ; He leads him to the gar-
den of His agony, to the pillar at which He was
scourged, to the cross of Calvary upon which He
died; and then He gently asks him whether he is
not ready to bear something in return for His sake.
Hard-hearted indeed would he be, and unworthy
the name of Christian, if he declined to do so.

While Christ by His example and by His love thus
encourages His poor child. He infuses the charm
of divine grace into his afflicted soul, and imparts
the courage to take up afresh his cross and to bear
it. Thus He dealt with St. Paul, leaving him to
bear to the end that " sting of the flesh '' from which
he prayed so hard to be delivered, but assuring
him of a grace that would enable him to support it :
" Sufficit tibi gratia 7nea.^^ — 2. CoR. xii. 9.

Here is the secret of that mysterious joy which
filled the souls of the Saints of all ages in the midst
of their trials, and which so perplexed the unspiritual
who beheld them. '' Crucem vident^^'* says St. Ber-
nard, " unctio7iem non videntP This is the source of
that stream of happiness, flowing down through
Christian ages, in which countless weary souls have
slaked their thirst. " C^';^^?," said Our Lord to each
one in turn, ''come to me, and you shall find 7'est to
your soulsT ''Requiem invenietis animabus vestrisJ^
And they found it : rest and peace of intellect con-
cerning the great problems of life, while all was
darkness and confusion around them; peace of

106 2)ail^ UbowQbtB

soul in the midst of trials, patience in sufferings,
hope in the gloomiest hours, and, for those who
came nearest to Christ, "joy in tribulation ; '' and in
presence of death itself, nothing but a cry of fearless
defiance \ '-'^ O Deaths where is thy victory ? O Death
where is thy sting V^

The priest, too, has labor to face, often uncon-
genial and tedious ; he has burdens to bear, some-
times too heavy for his shoulders. But, if he only
listens, he, too, will hear the voice of Christ calling
him. From the crucifix, from the tabernacle, the
sweet words will come forth, and go straight to his
heart :

" Come, O my son, come to Me ; thy mind is dark-
ened; I will give it back its wonted light : thy heart is
sad and sinking ; I will cheer and brighten it; thou
art weak, I will strengthen thee ; thou meetest coldness,
unkindness, neglect, censure, at the hands of thy fellow-
men. Come to Me, and in the embrace of My love all
will be forgotten^

'^^ Laborantes ad refectionem invitat, ad requiem
provocat oneratos ; non tame7i onus subtrahit aut
labo7'em, magis autem onere alio, alio labore commutat ;
sed onere levi, suavi jugo, in quibus requies aut refectio,
etsi minus appareat, tamen inveniatur^ — S. Bern,,
Serm, XV, in Psalm.

Xlbe priest a Comforter lor

XXVII

THE PRIEST A COMFORTER

" Venite ad me omnes qui laboratis et onetati estis et
ego reficiam vosJ^

" Come to me all you that labor and are burdened^
and I will refresh you, — Matt. xxi. 28.

|HE priest is here below the representative
of Christ. He continues the work of the
Saviour among men, and therefore he may
borrow without presumption the words of his Master,
and apply them to himself. In a true sense he,
too, can say to his fellow-men, " Come to 7neJ^

The occasion to do this blessed v/ork is never
missing ; for though much better and happier than
when Christ came, the world is still full of darkness
and of wickedness, of suffering and of sorrow. The
primeval curse is still visible on the human race :
" In the sweat of thy face shall thou eat breads The
active energies of the vast majority of men are spent,
like those of animals, in seeking food ; they keep alive
only at the cost of unceasing toil. Even those who
escape the pressure of physical wants, are liable to

108 2)ail^ XTbouobts

worse, — sickness in one or other of its innumerable
shapes, robbing existence of all its joy ; the loss of
fortune ; poverty, with all the privations and embar-
rassments it entails ; severance by death, or by
estrangement of affection, of the closest and dearest
ties ; or again, sorrow, or failure, or disgrace, light-
ing on others dearer than self. Or it may be the
agony of religious doubt, or the dark void of unbelief,
or the remorse and the shame of sin. How few es-
cape entirely these countless forms of evil ! How
many are weighed down by them, and instinctively
look around them for relief !

To all these the priest is sent ; all day long he
cries to them : " Come to me and I will refresh youT
For every evil he has a remedy. To those who have
never known the blessing of faith, or in whom its
beneficent light has been obscured by doubt, and
w^ho grope like the blind to find an issue, or who,
having tried in vain, settle down disheartened and
despairing, " in darkness and in the shadow of death ^^'^
the priest offers the sweet, winning radiance of the
Gospel — courage, contentment, hopefulness, joy.
From the guilty heart he removes the crushing
weight of sin. The relief, the comfort, the strength,
he imparts to penitent souls every day in the tribunal
of penance, should be enough to make all men bless
him.

But not merely for spiritual needs do men come
to him. He is their resource and their refuge in
all their trials. The poor, the sick, the afflicted,

Ube priest a Comforter 109

instinctively turn to him. From him they expect
what nobody else can or will do for them. Nor do
they hope in vain. Compassion is easy to him, for
he is no stranger himself to the miseries of life. ''^He
is taken,''' says St. Paul (Heb. v. i.), ''from amo7ig
men and ordained for meii . . . who can have compas-
sion on them, because he hi^nself is also compassed with
infirmity y And then daily contact with the heart of
his Master has enlarged his heart, and filled it with
an inexhaustible treasure of pity. The relief found
in sympathy, by those who suffer, is simply incalcu-
lable; but the priest does more than sympathize
with them : he tries to relieve them. His pity is
active, because his love is sincere. The selfish man
tries to forget the needs and sufferings of his fellow-
m.en ; or he hardens himself against them by some
scientific theory, or he attempts to buy himself off
by some transient beneficence. Not so the true
priest. He is ever mindful of those who suffer, ever
anxious to help them. His love makes him re-
sourceful. Often he succeeds in accomplishing
v/hat nobody else could or would do.

And even when he has thus made the burden
endurable, his heavenly work is not ended. He
still possesses the secret of lightening the weight of
what remains. Behind what cannot be removed, he
reveals the hidden hand of God dealing out what is
so unwelcome to nature, not in anger, but in love.
''Because thou wast acceptable to God,'''' said the Arch-
angel to Tobias, ^' it was necessary that temptation

110 Bails XTbougbts

(i.e. suffering) should prove thee^ And thus the
trials of life come to be looked upon as blessings in
disguise, not only to be borne patiently, but to be
readily accepted, and positively welcomed.

Truly the priest is the great comforter of man in
his misery, dispensing relief, brightness, hope, joy-
ful submission, to all who come under his influence.
But only the true priest can do such things — the
man of faith, of charity, of unselfish devotion, the
man who loses himself in the service of others. The
intelligent man, the active man, the good-natured
man, can do something for them ; the man of God
alone can do all.

" Wherefore do thou^ O man of God, pursue justice^
godliness, faith, charity, patience, mildness ^ — i Tim.
vi. 2.

" Sit rector singulis compassione proximus, prce cunctis
contemplatione suspensus, ut et per pietatis viscera in se
cceterorum-infirmitatem transferal, et per speculationis
altitudinem seipsum quoque invisibilia appetendo tran-
scendat, ne aut alta petens proximorum infrma despi-
ciat aut infrmis proximorum congruens appetere alta
derelinquatr — S. Greg., Fastoral I. v.

Ube IRelioxous /iDan m

XXVIII

THE RELIGIOUS MAN

^^Legem pone mihi, JDomine, viam justificationum
tuarum^ et exqiiira?n earn semper. Da mihi intelleciujn
et scrutabor legem tuam^ et custodiam illain in toto
corde meo^ — Ps. cxviii.

" Set before me for a law the way of thy justification^
O Lord, and I will always seek after it. Give me
understanding and I will search thy law^ and I will
keep it with my whole hearth

HE law by which men's actions are prac-
tically guided, depends upon what is upper-
most in their minds and deepest in their
hearts. With the great majority, the ruling prin-
ciple, in one shape or another, is self-interest. Their
great aim in life is pleasure, or position, or power,
or wealth which may place any or all of the others
within their reach.

With a certain number it is something incompar-
ably higher and greater than self ; it is moral good-
ness. To avoid what is wrong or unworthy, because
of its wickedness or unworthiness ; to cultivate virtue
for its own sake ; to do the right thing chiefly because

112 Daxis XTbougbts

it is right ; to sacrifice all else when necessary to
honor and to dut}^ — such is the endeavor of many
good men of past and present times.

Finally, there are those who view their lives, and
aim at regulating them, principally in the light of
.their relations with God. To recognize His claims
upon them, to serve Him, to obey His will in every
particular, is their great concern.

To follow the first of these principles, makes the
worldly man. To obey the second, makes the vir-
tuous man. To be guided by the third, makes the
religious man.

The distinctive character, therefore, of the reli-
gious man is that, not only in theory, but in practice,
his life is built on, and regulated by, the thought of
God. All Christians knov/ that God is ever present
to them ; that it is His hand that sustains them in
existence ; that His guiding action extends to what-
ever may happen them; that they owe Him the
homage of all they have and are, and that to Him
they will have to answer for every particular of their
lives. All know it, but the religious man realizes it,
and aims at accommodating his life to such a concep-
tion. This is what distinguishes him from all others.
In what he does, the worldly man looks to his inter-
est, the conscientious man to the lav/s of duty, but the
religious man looks to the will of God. Like Abra-
ham, he walks in the divine presence ; he remembers
God, he seeks God, he sees God everywhere. The
visible world is to him a constant revelation of the

Zbc IRelfgioiis i^an us

Divine attributes. In the events of public life,
where others admit of nothing but the play of
human passions, or the forces of nature, the reli-
gious man recognizes, though he may not always be
able to shov/, a guiding providence ; and in all that
happens to himself, be it good or evil, he acknowl-
edges humbly, like Job, the hidden hand of God.

This is preeminently a Christian type of virtue.
It contains, or it leads to, what is most distinctive
in the Gospel. There is something particularly
humble and subdued in the religious man. Self-
restraint is natural to him, as is also patience and
gentleness with others. He is reverent and recol-
lected in his devotions, in his contact with sacred
places and things. He is instinctively a man of
prayer. Living with God, he turns to Him on all
occasions, leans upon Him ; he mingles prayer with
his most ordinary actions.

How fitting is such a spirit and such a form of
life in priests I The Council of Trent looks for it
in them: ^'' nihil nisi gi-ave^ moderatum ac 'R.^i.igio^^
PLENUM /r^ seferanty The people look for it, too,
not only at the altar and in the sacred functions
where its absence would shock them, but in the
tone, the manner, and language of the priest in
ordinaiy life. Everywhere he is expected to be
not only a good man, a kind man, a well-bred man,
but also a religious man, a man of God.

Tu autem o homo Dei I '

114 H)ail^ XTbouabts

XXIX

HOLINESS AND HELPFULNESS

" Pro eis ego sanctifico meipsumy

" For them do I sanctify myself ^ — John xvii. 19.

HE sanctification of which Our Lord
speaks could not mean for Him what it
commonly means when applied to men.
In men there is always room for growth in holi-
ness ; in Christ there was none. Not only in His
divinity was He perfectly and essentially holy, but
also in His humanity from the first hour in which
it was hypostatically united to a divine person.
But in Sacred Writ, in which the word ^'sanctifica-
tion^'' is very frequently met, it almost invariably has
the meaning of consecration to God, active or
passive. In this sense it is said that the Lord
sanctified the seventh day, and that the temple, the
altar, the vessels used in the sacrifice, and many
things besides, were sanctified, that is, withdrawn
from ordinary uses and consecrated to God. In
the same sense Christ tells us (John x. 36) that He
himself was sanctified and sent by His Father, that
is, consecrated as a victim for the salvation of man-

Doliness an5 Ibelpfulness us

kind. But now, inasmuch as He freely accepts
the merciful decree, and resolves to carry it out
even to the laying down of His life on Calvary, He
may say, in all truth, that He ^'sanctifies (i.e. de-
votes) himself,'^ and furthermore, that He sanctifies
himself '""for them,'^ for his disciples, for all those
whom He came to save, " that they may ie sanctified
in truth ;^^ that is, that in Him and through Him
they may be offered and consecrated to God.

What Christ did for mankind at large, the priest
has to do for his people. He has to remember, first
of all, that it is for them, not for himself, he has
been chosen, consecrated, anointed, and sent. " For
every high priest^ says St. Paul (Heb. v. i.), " taken
from among men^ is ordained for men!''' Next, after
having been thus sanctified, i.e. devoted, consecrated,
to the good of others by his very ordination, he re-
sponds to the divine action by giving himself wholly
and unceasingly to the same purpose. He is pure
to make others pure ; he is separated from the world
to make others unworldly. As Christ takes those
He has chosen, and presents them with Himself to
God as a single offering, so the priest identifies
himself with his flock, bearing them in his hands,
so to speak, every time he appears before God.
This he does ostensibly and solemnly as often as
they gather around him at the holy sacrifice. This
he repeats each time he recites the breviary. His
voice is not merely his own ; it is also that of his

116 Bails ZbovLQbtB

people united with him in a common act of self-coL
secration. Every sacrament he confers, every priestb.
duty he performs, means the same thing, and has
the same purpose, — to bring his people ever nearer
to God ; and nearness to God is sanctification itself.

But in another and more familiar sense of the
word, the priest should take for his motto the say-
ing of the Master: " I^or the77i do I sanctify my self. ^^
The priest has, indeed, many reasons to strive for
holiness. His place is in the sanctuary, near to
God. His life is spent amid holy things. At the
altar he is as one with Christ himself; in fact, every
thing he says and does in the performance of his
sacred duties, calls him back to the law^ of holiness ;
and he is safe only if he aspires constantly to that
higher life, at the summit of which stand the saints.
If he aims merely at what is necessary, he misses it
and is lost.

In. the same sense he sanctifies himself for the
sake of his flock. He is their mediator, and there-
fore he must hold himself as near as possible to the
Throne of Mercy. Evidently the more closely he is
united to God, the more efficacious his prayer is, and
the more abundant the blessings poured down upon
those for whom he prays. And the same is true of
his other functions. The word of God is deserving
of attention and reverence, whoever preaches it ;
but what additional weight is added to it by the
holy life of the preacher ! The sacraments he ad-
ministers are independent in their essence of his

Doliness auD Ibelpfulness ii7

personal qualities; yet how great is the share of
these in the final result I Of all the qualities which
may be found in a priest, nothing so much as ex-
ceptional holiness draws to him those who need his
help. They gather eagerly around the confessional
where he sits, aroimd the pulpit where he preaches,
around the altar where he offers the Divine Victim.
To the pious priest only, will those appeal who
aspire to the higher life. For them in a most spe-
cial manner ^'he sanctifies himself ^^"^ because only on
that condition can he be really helpful to them.
Devoid of piety himself, he would ill understand
them, and still less care to help them in a practical,
continuous, earnest way ; and so, for their sakes, as
well as for his own, he studies the ways of divine
grace ; he meditates, he prays, he practises the vir-
tues to which he is striving to initiate others; he
^valks before them in the narrow path which leads
directly to God.

" Pro cis ego saiictifico meipsum ut sint et ipsi sajicti-
ficati in veritate^

" Ille modis omnibus ad sacerdotium evehi debet qui
cunctis carfiis passionibus moriens jam spiritaliter vivit;
qui ad alie7ia cupienda non ducitur^ sed propria
largitur ; qui sic studet vivere ut proximorum cor da
arentia doctrincB valeat fluentis irrigare. Si homo
apud homifiem de quo 7ni7iim'e prcesumit fieri intercessor
e?'ubescit, qua me7ite apud Deum intercessionis loc7im
propopulo arripit qui familiarem se ejus gratice esse
per vitce merit U77i 7iescitV'' — S. Greg., Past, i. lo.

118 2)afl^ Ubougbts

XXX

THE PRIEST A SOLDIER

" Labora sicut bo7ius miles Christi JesuP
^^ Labour as a good soldier of Christ Jesus,'*^ —
2 Tim. ii. 3.

HE priest is more than once compared by
St. Paul to a soldier ; and rightly, for the
more of the soldier there is in him, the
better priest he is.

At first sight, nothing seems more opposed than
the two callings, but a closer examination reveals
the fact that several of their leading features are the
same. The same general conditions of life are
found in both, and the same qualities are required.

I. The priest, like the soldier, once engaged is
no longer free ; he is no longer at liberty to forsake
his profession, and to turn to any of the pursuits of
life which were previously open to him. He cannot
even combine them, to any extent, v/ith the duties
he has assumed. " No man.^^ says St. Paul (ibid),
bei7ig a soldier to God, entangleth himself with secular
business r That is, he has no right to do so. The
soldier has ceased to belong to himself. His very

XCbe iPriest a Sol&ler ii9

life is not his own. The Roman soldier that St.
Paul had in mind was separated from family, kin-
dred, home, country; indeed, everywhere the sol-
dier's life is a life of detachment. In active warfare
he has to hold himself always in readiness ; at any
time he may be called upon to face certain death.
And therefore he is best without a family. If he
has left behind him persons tenderly loved, it is not
good that he should give them much thought ; such
memories would unman him. In a word, the life of
a soldier in active service is a life of detachment, of
self-devotion; a ready gift of his energies, and, if
need be, of his life, to the service of his country.

What else is the life of a priest, if he be true to
his calling ? His time, his energies, his influence,
all his gifts, belong to the great purpose for which
he became a priest. Like St. Paul, he is ready to
give his very life for it: '' I most gladly will spends
aiid be spent myself^ for your souls P — 2 CoR. xii. 15.

2. The qualities of the soldier are no less neces-
sary in the priest, — courage, endurance, discipline.
The true soldier is the type of courage. He is fear-
less in presence of danger, or, if fear is awakened in
him, he does not yield to it, else he v/ould be branded
as a cov/ard. But his courage is only occasionally
appealed to, whereas \l\s power of endurance is taxed
at every hour. Long marches, scanty provisions,
excessive heat or cold, lack of shelter, sickness,
— these are what try the soldier much more than
facing the enemy. This is why St. Paul does not

120 Dails Ubougbts

say: '^ Have courage; be brave;'''' but ''''suffer hard-
ship^^'' for such is the meaning of the Greek term,
KaK07rd6r)(T0Vf rendered in the Vulgate by the word
labora. Last of all, but not least, discipline. In
the Roman army discipline was of the strictest kind,
and the oath of obedience (sacramentum) was looked
upon as the most sacred of all. In man, as in
nature, only disciplined power is useful. Uncon-
trolled, it wastes itself, and often proves destructive.

Courage, too, is a requirement of the priesthood ;
physical courage sometimes, moral courage always.
To be faithful to duty, at any cost ; to live up to his
convictions whatever others may say ; to speak out
for the right, to censure and to oppose what is
wrong ; to carry out necessary but unpopular meas-
ures; to face the risk of being misunderstood or
blamed, or to forfeit certain advantages sooner than
relinquish a useful purpose, — all this is necessary
in the priest, and it means in all cases true moral
courage.

The power of endurance is not less necessary.
The life of a priest, if he strives to meet all the
requirements of his position, is generally a tr}dng
one. His mission may be what is called a hard one.
The demands upon his physical strength m^ay be
as much as he can bear. His patience is tried in
numberless ways. Among those with whom he is
placed in contact, there are the thoughtless, the
unreasonable, the obstinate, the deceitful, the self-
ish, the ungrateful; he has to bear with all, and

Ube priest a Sol&fec 121

strive by dint of gentleness and forbearance to win
them to Christ.

Finally, his life has to be one of order, of rule, of
discipline. In many things he is left to his own
initiative ; but in a still larger number he is under
rule, — the rule of the Gospel and the rules of the
Church. His action as a priest is individual in one
sense, in another it is collective, that is, associated
with the action of the Church herself and of her
representatives. In both it is equally withdrawn
from caprice and subject to law.

^' It is the soldier^s pride to fight for his king ; what
an honor to be the soldier of Christ ! But if ca7n'
paigning means endurance^ he who endureth not is no
soldier^ — Chrys. in 2 Tim.

122 H)afli? Ubougbts

XXXI

THE SAVING POWER OF THE PRIEST

" Vos estis sal terrce,^^

" You are the salt of the earth J^ — Matt. v. 13.

ALT is used everyv/here for two chief pur-
poses,— to give savor to food, and to
preserve it from corruption. Under this
latter aspect it is introduced by Our Saviour in the
Sermon on the Mount. Two things are imphed in
His words : " You are the salt of the earth^''^ (a) that
the world, that is mankind, is prone to corruption ;
and (d) that those whom He addresses, that is. His
followers, and, in an especial manner His apostles,
are destined to counteract that evil tendency, and
preserve the world from debasement and ultimate
ruin.

That in human nature, and in whatever proceeds
from it, there is a constant tendency to corruption,
is a fact which nobody is tempted to question. Not
mere decay or loss of power and vitality, but posi-
tive corruption ; that is, a substitution of what is
evil for what is good. In every individual there is

Ubc Saving power of tbe fittest 123

a manifold propensity to wickedness which has to
be kept under severe discipUne. In human society,
principles, ideals, habits, tend of themselves to
degenerate ; nor does the Church herself, because
of the human elements which enter into her con-
stitution, escape from the common law. She has
passed through periods of deep debasement; and,
even when at her best, she is conscious of carrying
within her the germs of infection which, if allowed
to develop, would prove fatal to her.

There are many forces at work to counteract this
tendency to evil wherever found. There is the en-
lightened self-interest of the individual and of the
community ; there is public opinion ; there is the
moral sense and the voice of conscience in every
human soul. Now, all these are good and useful,
and should be welcomed. But whether separate or
united, they have always proved lamentably insuf-
ficient ; since, in spite of them, all the human race
had gone from bad to worse up to the coming of
Christ, and has continued to do so wherever He is
not known. His Gospel only and its blessed influ-
ence, His Church and her ministrations, have stayed
the world in its downward course ; and only they
can continue to save it from intellectual, moral, and
social ruin.

This heavenly work of preservation is shared in
by all God's faithful children. By their principles
and by their actions they are a public, perpetual,
effective protest against the false doctrines and the

124 Bail^ Ubougbts

wicked ways of the world. And that this is part of
their calUng, — that they, too, are meant to be ^^ the
salt of the earth ^^"^ — is a truth of which they should
be frequently reminded.

But the saying of Our Lord, " You are the salt of
the earth^^'' was obviously meant, above all, for His
apostles and their successors in the ministry of the
New Law. It is the special vocation of every priest
to be the preserver and guardian of v/hat is most pre-
cious in man, — integrity of principle, and purity of
conscience. He is the divinely appointed protector
of souls at every period of life, — in childhood, in
youth, in manhood and womanhood, in old age.
His first concern is to preserve from all taint of
evil the individual souls committed to his care.
But his solicitude goes far beyond. It embraces
the whole community with which he is connected,
the parish, the diocese, the country at large. He
labors by his private influence and by his public
action to counteract the tendency to dishonesty, to
deceit, to the unscrupulous pursuit of gain so uni-
versally prevalent, and to maintain in every sphere
the principles of private integrity, of social propriety,
and of sincere devotion to the public good.

But the priest can do much more. The power is
given him not only to preserve but to purify. What
salt cannot effect on tainted meats, he can effect on
tainted souls. He can destroy the work of corrup-
tion, and restore them to their original integrity.

All this he is sent among men to do day after day,

Ubc Saping power ot tbe priest 125

to the end of his Hfe. But he can do it only on one
condition, — that he himself retain within him the
consecrating and purifying principles of truth and
goodness. For if he keep them not, he is power-
less to impart them ; and, short of a Divine inter-
position, he cannot, once he has lost them, ever
recover them himself. Thus he becomes worthless
as a priest, worthless as a man. Such is the solemn
warning given by Our Lord Himself: ''Buf if the
salt lose its savour wherewith shall it be salted 2 It
is good for nothing any more but to be cast out, and to
be trodde7i on by meii^

Such is the unhappy lot of a priest who has lost,
and is known to have lost, the integrity of faith or
of life in a measure which unfits him for his work.
There is no place for him in the priesthood, and
there is no place for him in the world. He becomes
an outcast to the Church and to his fellow-men,
almost as unfit for secular as for clerical duties,
compelled to hide his character as his only chance
of being tolerated, and, whenever discovered, sure
to be despised, shunned, and " trodden on by men'^
" Ad 7iihilum valet ultra nisi ut conculcetur ab homi-
nibusT

" Si sal sumus, C07idire mentes fidelium debemus.
Quasi inter bruta amimalia petra salis debet esse
sacerdos ifi populis ut quisque sacerdoti jungitur quasi
e salis petra ceternce vitce sapore condiatur. " — St,
Greg., Jlom, xvii.

126 2)ailp ZbowQUs

XXXII

YOUNG PRIESTS

" Nemo adolescentiam tuam contemnatP

" Let no man despise thy youth, ^^ — i. Tim. iv. 12.

HERE are duties of the priest to which
early manhood is by no means unsuited :
the religious instruction of children, for
example, and their moral and spiritual training ; or,
again, the bearing of divine truth to distant lands,
and, in general, what entails most hardship, and de-
mands most power of physical endurance, in the
missionary life. Yet it must be admitted that, taken
as a whole, the functions of the priesthood call for
ripeness of years. In the pulpit the priest has not
only to convey to his hearers a correct notion of the
Christian doctrine, a thing he may do equally well
at any age, but also to apply the law of duty to the
various circumstances and conditions of life, to ad-
vise, to caution, to reprove, to condemn; all of which
imply maturity, weight of authority, such as ordi-
narily comes with years. In the tribunal of penance
he has to listen to disclosures of great delicacy ; to
elicit them, when necessary, from all, regardless of

l^onxxQ iPriests 127

condition or age or sex. It is his privilege to enter
into the deepest secrets of souls. Like the family
physician, or the family lawyer, he is intrusted with
matters of which all the rest of the world remains in
ignorance. He sits as a judge, deciding questions
in which the interests, nay, the abiding happiness
of his penitent, and, indirectly, the happiness of
others, may be involved. He has to guide through
intricate paths, and show how to face the most
critical emergencies.

All this naturally demands experience, refined wis-
dom ; and hence it is that where priests abound, the
age at which they are admitted to hear confessions
(except those of children) comes much later than
the canonical age for the priesthood. In certain
religious societies ordination itself is delayed, because
the celebration of the Sacred Mysteries is something
so solemn that it seems incongruous to intrust it
to one barely emerging from youth into manhood.
It is as old, not as young, that the popular imagina-
tion pictures to itself the priest of God ; and poets
and painters, who are wont to represent things in
their ideal forms, invariably portray him as advanced
in years.

There is, therefore, a real absence of harmony,
in the young priest, between the number of his years
and the nature of his principal duties, and a con-
sequent peril of what S. Paul apprehended in the
case of Timothy : a lack of trust and of reverence on
the part of the faithful. " JVemo adolesccntiam tuam

128 2)ails Ubougbts

C07item7iatP And yet the Church, yielding to the
practical requirements of her work, has always
admitted, and will doubtless continue to admit,
young men to the character and to all the functions
of the sacred office. But then she knows that years
are not everything ; that there may be a dignified
youth, as there may be a silly old age ; and that a
grace of a divine vocation may supply, before the
time, w^hat is commonly the fruit of years.

What may deprive a young priest of the reverence
and trust of the f aitliful ? The faults of boyhood :
levity, thoughtlessness, immaturity, precipitancy, an
inordinate love of sports and games, a lack of
repose.

What makes a young priest respected ? Serious-
ness of manner, maturity of thought, earnestness of
purpose, steadiness in carrying out all that apper-
tains to duty ; also, learning, piety, enlightened zeal,
self-respect, a sense of authority tempered by mod-
esty : " auctoritas modesta, '' as the Pontifical says in
the rite of ordination ; finally, the religious spirit,
that is, the spirit of reverence imparting a tone of
thoughtfulness and deliberation to the whole man.
Each of these helps to dispel the unfavorable im-
pression which might attach to the youthful priest,
and therefore it becomes his duty to cultivate them
sedulously in the early years of his ministry. To
the buoyancy and enthusiasm of youth, which he
should strive to retain, he has to add the gravity,
the dignity, the repose, of old age : " cujus probata

J^ouuQ priests 129

vita senedus sit^ And thus the number of his years
will be lost to sight, and the faithful will see, listen
to, and love in him the man of God.

Vide quomodo oporteat sacerdotem imperai'e et cum
aucto7'itate loqui, Conte?nptibilis est juventus ex praeju-
dicata opinione ; idea dicit Apostolus : " Ne77io adolescen-
tiam tuam conteTunaty Oportet enim doctor em non
esse contemptui. In rebus quae ad se solum spectant,
conteinnatur et id ferat ; in iis vero quae ad alios spec-
tant, non item. Hie 7ion modestia opus est sed auctori-
tate^ ne id gregi noceat, — Chrysost. in i Tim,,
Horn, xiii.

130 2)ail^ Ubougbts

XXXIII

CARRYING THE CROSS

" Si guts vult post me venire^ abneget seipsum, tollat
crucem suam et sequatur me^

" If any man will come after me^ let him deny him-
self and take up his cross and follow meH^ — Matt.
xvi. 24.

HE original sense of these words has more
or less disappeared in the subsequent ex-
tension given them, and in their moral
applications. They were spoken by Our Lord a
short time before His passion and death, when He
had begun to acquaint His followers explicitly with
what awaited Him in Jerusalem : " From that tifne^^^
says St. Matthew in this same place (xvi. 21), ^^fesus
began to show to His disciples that He must go to ferusa-
le7n and suffer many things . . . and be put to death J'^
'^ And He spoke the word openly ^^"^ adds St. Mark. St.
Peter, shocked by such a prospect, makes bold to
expostulate v/ith Him privately, and exclaims : '' God
forbid that any such thing should happen Thee^ Where-
upon Christ rebukes him for his worldly thoughts.
Far from being an obstacle, the sufferings and death

Carrstng tbe Cross isi

of his Master will be the salvation and life of the
v/orld, and even the source of His own glory, as, later
on, He told the disciples of Emmaus : " Ought not
Christ to have suffered these things^ and so to enter His
glory ? " — Luke xxiv. 26.

And this is a law for all.

To suffer and to die is as nothing compared with
eternal happiness, and whoever is not prepared to
make the sacrifice is unfit to receive the reward.
This Our Lord resolved to proclaim aloud and to
make known to all. So, ''calling the multitude to-
gether,"^^ says St. Mark, " with his disciples, He said to
them : If any man will come after me, let him deny
himself and take up his cross and follow me,^^ That is :
" I am about to die a cruel and ignominious death,
and those who claim to belong to Me have to be
prepared to meet the same fate ; some as a reality,
the others as a possibility, which they must be dis-
posed to accept at any time, sooner than cease to be
loyal to me. They may have to choose between the
present life and the future. To save the one may
mean to sacrifice the other." In that case " whoever
shall save his life shall lose it, and he that shall lose
his life for My sake shall find it^

This supremacy over all else of faith, of the Gos-
pel, of the new life, of the kingdom of God, of Christ
Himself as the concrete embodiment of it all, Jesus
had already proclaimed again and again, as when He
spoke of the "pearl of great price, ^'' to purchase which
the merchant parts with all he has ; or, again, of the

132 £)atlg ZdovlqUb

closest bonds of nature to be broken for His sake :
" Ife that loveth father or mother more than Me is not
worthy of Me, And he that loveth so?i or daughter
more than Me is not worthy of Me, And he that
taketh not up his cross and foUoweth Me is not worthy
of Mey — Matt. x. 37: to which He adds: " /Z^
that findeth his life shall lose it, and he that loseth his
life shall find it,''^ thus showing the sense in which
His cross is referred to. In St. Luke (ix. 23) it is
spoken of as having to be borne daily : " tollat cru-
cem siiam quotidie ; but this, inapplicable to actual
death, is perfectly intelligible as understood of an
abiding readiness to die for the cause of Christ.
Hence the conclusion of Maldonatus (in chap. x.
Matt.) : ^' Tolle7'e crucem suam nihil aliud est quam
paratum esse pro Christo non quoquo inodo niori, sed
etiam crucifigi, sicut Pet r us dixit ' Domine, tecirm paratus
sum et in carce7'e77i et in 77iortem ire,'' " and, naming St.
Chrysostom and several others who understand it
of that cross, ^^ qua 7nundo mortui esse debemus,'^ he
says, " magis moralis est quam litter alis,^''

This " moral sense " has, it must be confessed,
been much more dwelt upon in the church than
the literal, and that almost from the beginning.
The cross of Christ was looked upon as the symbol
of His sufferings, and to bear one's cross came
to signify to suffer for Him and rv^ith Him. Thus,
instead of a mere disposition to face any sacrifice,
even death, rather than be unfaithful to Christ, the
bearing of the cross was made to signify a daily

Carrping tbe Cross i33

practice of religious devotion recommended to, and
in some measure expected of, all true Christians.

In describing the manner of performing this duty,
the Fathers follow freely their personal inspirations.
" Tollit crucem suam^'^^ says St. Jerome, ^' qui mundo
crucifigitury " Duobus modis,'^^ says St. Gregory,
" crux tollitur cum aut per abstinentiam afficitur cor-
pus^ aut per compassionem proximi affligitur animus;'''^
and he gives St. Paul as an example of both,
" castigo corpus meum . . . quis mfirmatur et ego non
infirmorr Indeed, bearing the cross came gradu-
ally, with spiritual writers, to signify every kind of
suffering entailed by Christian duty, or assumed in
a Christian spirit.

In keeping with this view, we may distinguish
three kinds of crosses, according as they are borne
by necessity, or by duty, or by the free choice of
the bearer.

1. There are imavoidable crosses^ i.e., privations,
sufferings, trials, which we cannot escape even if we
would. We have to bear them submissively^ be-
cause they come from God; htanbly^ because we
deserve them; chee7^fully^ because they are bless-
ings in disguise, and help to bring us nearer to God
and liken us to Christ.

2. There are obligatory crosses w^hich it is in our
power to shake off our shoulders, but conscience
forbids ; unwelcome duties which we are bound to
perform, pleasures inviting but unlawful. Such
crosses we have to accept loyally, and bear them
bravely and perseveringly.

134 2)ail^ ZbowQhtB

3. There are voluntary crosses^ which neither out-
ward necessity nor the inward voice of conscience
imposes, but vv^hich we know to be welcome to our
Divine Master ; and these we take up lovingly as a
free homage offered to Him to whom we would
gladly give the whole world and what it contains if
we owned it. To these correspond the great sacri-
fices and austerities of the saints, — deeds of love
offered with joy, which all Christians should look up
to with sincere admiration, and strive, at least in
some measure, to imitate.

" To bear the cross, to love the cross^ to chastise the
body and bring it under subjection ; to fly honors^ to
love to suffer insults^ to despise 07ie V self and wish to be
despised ; to bear all adversities and losses, and to desire
no prosperity in this world; — all this is not according
to man^s natural inclination^

" Set thyself then like a good and faithful servant of
Christ, to bear manfully the cross of Thy Lord for the
love of Him who was crucified for thee^ — Imit. ii. 12.

IPfets 135

XXXIV

PIETY

^^ Exerce teipsum ad pietatem?^

*^ Exercise thyself unto godliness,'*' — i Tim. iv. 7.

BHE word ^^ piety ^^ {pietas, eva-i^euC), is sus-
ceptible of many meanings. With the
ancient Greeks and Romans, it signi-
fied primarily the love of parents and of comitry.
From earthly objects, this disposition to reverence
and to active service naturally extended itself to
God, the original source of all blessings and bene-
fits, and became a religious homage, as St. Thomas
explains (2.2. q ci. a 3): ^^ ea quce sunt creatur-
arum per quamdam super excellentiam et causalitatem
transferuntur in Deum ; unde per excellentiam pietas
cultus Dei nominatur^ Thus understood, piety is
the same as what in modem language we call
the religious feeling; it is what the schoolmen
would call a function, if not the substance of the
virtue of Religion. In this sense we find it used
in the Old, and still more frequently in the New
Testament. In the language of St. Francis de
Sales, and of other spiritual writers, the word devo-
tion was meant to express the same thing.

136 Bails Ubougbts

By piety, therefore, we understand a disposition
of the soul drawing it to do homage to God, and
to busy itself with what is directly meant to honor
Him. But the principle from which this disposition
proceeds may be different. In some it is mainly a
sense of duty or propriety, or a view of the benefits
accruing to those who, unsustained by any sensible
pleasure or enjoyment in the practices themselves,
are nevertheless faithful to them; while in others
the spontaneous attraction is such as to render all
other motives unnecessary. The distinction, in-
deed, is not peculiar to piety ; it applies to all the
Christian virtues, even to charity itself. In all
there is a rational side, dependent on the will ; and
an emotional side, dependent on the feelings. Some
are moved chiefly by the former, others by the
latter. In popular language the former are said to
be religious, the latter pious. The truth is, in the
Christian soul both elements are present, only in
different proportions.

The truly pious soul has her characteristic fea-
tures. She loves prayer; she is assiduous in the
practices of devotion, such as meditation, assistance
at the Holy Sacrifice, frequent communion, and the
like. She has a taste for spiritual books, and enjoys
the Lives of the Saints. She is instinctively led
to devotion towards them, and in a most special
manner to devotion towards the Blessed Mother of
God. She loves to visit and to adorn their shrines,
and sdll more the Altar and the tabernacle.

IPiets 137

Piety as proceeding from the will is a virtue ; as
a spontaneous impulse it is a gift, — a gift of nature
in some, in others a gift of grace.

There are those who are naturally pious ; that is,
whose physical temperament or psychological struc-
ture leads them, almost without eifort or guidance,
to the above-mentioned practices. Others are pious
because God has made them so, supplying by His
grace what is necessary to turn their affections
heavenwards, and make them instinctively delight
in holy things.

From whatever source piety comes, be it nature,
or grace, or both, as usually happens, it should be
assiduously cultivated and its promptings gladly
welcomed :

First, because it is a great help, as is evident, to
faithfulness in the service of God. We are weak,
and should readily lay hold of whatever facilitates
the performance of any of our obligations. Now,
just as the natural affection of children for their
parents makes the performance of their filial duties
easy and pleasant, so piety sweetens the service of
God. Piety is in reality a form of love, and love is
the greatest sustaining power of all (Imit. iii. 5).

Next, because it gives ease and gracefulness to
our worship, — an important circumstance for these
with whom we live. Piety edifies in proportion as
it is spontaneous. It is attractive chiefly by the
glow of cheerfulness and brightness that surrounds
it

138 H)ails ZbowQbtB

Finally, piety should be cultivated because it im-
parts a generous impulse to the soul, and makes
her capable of much more than she could attain to
without it. Virtue, when alone, may advance with
firm step, but piety gives it wings.

By none should piety be more cultivated and
cherished than by the priest. Nothing is more
in keeping with his character and with his duties.
Nobody comes so near to God ; nobody should so
much enjoy His presence and His service. The
priest lives in the midst of holy things ; he knows
their value ; it is only natural that he should love
them more than others. That he does so is taken
for granted by the faithful ; to find him deficient in
that point would be disappointing and disedifying.
Besides, he has to exhort, to train souls to piety, so
far as they are capable of it : how can he do so if
his own soul is empty ?

" O how the thought of God attracts^
And draws the heart from earthy
And sickens it of passing shows ^
And dissipating mirth I "

" The perfect way is hard to flesh ;
It is not hard to love ;
If thou wert sick for want of God,
How quickly wouldst thou move 1 ''

Faber.

IPreacbfna 139

XXXV

PREACHING

^^ Prxdica Verbum^

" / charge thee before God and Jesus Christy who
shall judge the living and the dead^ preach the word ;
be instant in season and out of season ; reprove^ entreaty
rebuke^ with all patience and doctrine^ — 2 Tim. iv.
I, 2.

HIS is one of the parting recommendations
of St. Paul to his beloved disciple Timothy.
'''The time of my dissolution is at hand^'^ he
says. ''^ I have fought a good fight ; I have finished my
course; I have kept the faith ; " and now that he is
about to depart, he would have Timothy take up the
burden, continue the work, and pursue it with some-
thing of the untiring ardor with which he himself
was filled during the whole course of his apostolate.
The terms he employs vividly recall his own manner
of work. They proclaim at the same time what the
minister of the Gospel has to aim at in ever}^ age.

Preaching is one of the fundamental duties of the
priest in charge of souls. It is by his familiar
catechetical teaching that children are trained in the
elements of the faith and of the Christian life. It is

140 Bails Ubougbts

by his instructions of Sundays and holy days that the
reUgious knowledge thus acquired is kept up and
spread among the vast majority of his people.
Books have superseded oral teaching in most forms
of knowledge, but not in the knowledge of religion
and duty. The people continue to get it almost
entirely through the instructions and exhortations
of their priests.

The universal practice of reading has by no
means destroyed the power of the spoken word. No
multiplication of books or magazines or daily pa-
pers, can ever supersede the human voice. People
are always ready to lay down newspaper or book,
to go and listen to a man who is at all worth hear-
ing. It may be that they can endure less dulness
or dreariness or repetition than in former times ; but
at no time has the utterance of the living truth by
the living man been more powerful and more wel-
come than at the present day. Here, then, is a
force of incalculable energy placed in the hands of
priests, of which a strict account will be demanded
at the judgment seat of God. The question for
each one will be, not whether he has turned to any
purpose the power imparted to him ; but whether he
has done so as fully, as earnestly, as constantly, as
carefully as he should. A la^vyer is not merely
expected to do soinething for his clients, or a physi-
cian for his patients ; they are expected to do the
best in their power. If they fail to do so, they are
considered equally lacking in honor and in honesty.

IPreacbing i4i

One cannot see why a priest should be judged by
a different standard.

To talk merely ; — to say something ; — to fill up
the time, is easy enough, and only too many think
it good enough for their hearers, but the hearers do
not agree with them.

To get off sermons ready made is not so bad,
because after all there is a selection, a purpose,
and an effort. But such discourses as they stand
are seldom adapted to the needs of an audience
different from that for which they were originally
meant. Sermons are like clothes : to fit well they
have to be made to measure.

In reality most priests have in themselves all that
is necessary to preach w^ell. They know the doc-
trines of the faith ; they know hov/ to accommodate
them to ordinary minds ; they know the duties of
their people, and are able to explain them in detail ;
they know the difficulties with Vv^hich they have to
contend, the temptations which beset them, the
defeats they suffer, and the victories they win. They
are in daily, hourly contact with them, looking down
into their very souls, and w^atching there the endless
struggle between fallen nature and divine grace.
What need is there of anything more to give fresh-
ness, originality, life, to what they say ?

But this is so only on condition that enough is
done to make all these resources available. Good
preaching means much labor. To take full posses-
sion of the component elements of the discourse ; to

142 s^aili? XrF30Ufibts

arrange them in proper order ; to give each its due
expansion and proportionate fulness ; to brighten
and beautify them by the usual resources of rhetoric ;
to prove solidly ; to exhort forcibly ; " /^ reprove,
entreat, rebuke with all patience and doctrine,^'' — all
this cannot be done without much thought and
serious preparation, remote and proximate. The
very lack of culture in the hearers, which dispenses
the preacher from a certain kind of care, entails
upon him additional care in other ways. He has to
bring down his teachings to a more accessible level,
to use a vocabulary more intelligible, without being
vulgar or trivial, to be more abundant in illustra-
tions, more dramatic and striking in the presentation
of his thoughts. The work, besides, thus begun has
to be kept up to the end, even by the very best of
speakers, under pain of their lapsing into mere
verbosity and iteration.

Nor is the preparation all. The best of sermons
may be spoiled, and the worst, in a measure,
redeemed by the delivery. The power of delivery
is a gift to cultivate. Natural imperfections should
be steadily combated ; they may never disappear
entirely ; but they will be covered to a great extent
by three Christian virtues, — faith, humility, charity.
A preacher whose soul is full of faith and love, and
who, in his concern for his hearers, forgets himself,
is almost sure to speak well.

purfts ot Untention 143

XXXVI

PURITY OF INTENTION

^'Attendite ne justitiam vestram faciatis coram Jwrni-
nibus ; alioquin mercedem non habebitis aptid Fatrefn
vestrum qui in cceHs estT

" Take heed that you do not your justice before men^
to be seen by them; otherwise you shall not have a
reward of your Father who is in heaven^ — Matt.
vi. I.

HRIST here points out one of the most
ordinary ways in which our actions lose
their moral value and miss their reward ;
and that is, doing them to win the good opinion of
others. Behind our every action there is a motive,
an end we aim at. The action is the means to that
end. The end may be good, bad, or indifferent.
There are some actions whose end can hardly be
anything but good ; others whose end is necessarily
bad ; but the immense majority are such that they
may be animated by intentions of any kind, and, as
a fact, have behind them a great variety of inten-
tions or ends inspiring the same action, some of
which may be good, others indifferent, or positively
evil. Thus I may give charity in view of God, and

1^4 Wall's TLbonQhts

at the same time for the pleasure I experience in
giving (wliich is indifferent), or for the purpose of
being considered generous, which is vain and un-
worthy. The higher motives generally require an
effort; the worthless motives come of themselves,
and their constant tendency is to supersede the
others, or to mingle so freely and largely with them
as to make the action principally their ovm. Now,
so far as they succeed in this, they deprive it of its
moral value.

And therefore it is that our Lord again and
again warns us against such a danger. In the
present instance he borrows an example from each
of the three great spheres of duty : God, the
neighbor, and self, — prayer, alms-giving, and fast-
ing. Beginning by the second He says : "If f/^oi^
dost an alms-deed^ sound not thy trumpet ; '' call not
the attention of others to it; dread eve?i self-complacency
awakened by thy action^ and try to hide the good deed
eveiifrom thyself *^ Let not thy left hand hiow what
thy 7'ight hand doeth^ The same law he applies
to prayer : " Whefi ye pray^ be not as the hypocrites
that love to sta7id and pray in the sy7iagogues and
corners of the streets, that they may be seen by me7i.
But thou, whe7i thou shall pray, e7iter i7iio thy cha7nber,
and having shut the door, pray to thy Father i7i sec7^etr
Finally he says, '• lVhe7i you fast, be not like the hypo-
C7'ites who disfigure their faces that they 7nay appear
Ufito 7ne7i to fast. But thou a7ioi7it thy head and
wash thy face,^^ etc.

purity ot Untentlon 145

The same spirit runs through the whole teaching
of Christ, — the paramount importance of the inner
principle. The absence of it in the Pharisees is
the cause of their condemnation ; its presence gives
to the widow's mite a value in His eyes superior to
that of the offerings of all the others. " This poor
widow hath cast i7i more than they allP

Rectitude of intention means the presence of worthy-
motives ; purity of inte7ition means the absence of
lower motives, or, at least, their relative unimpor-
tance, and a constant endeavor to exclude them.

There are few men who need to be watchful in
this regard more than priests. Their work is ad-
mirable. They spend their days in performing and
in preparing for the highest and holiest duties. Yet
it is possible for them to bring all down to a low
human level ; in fact, it is their daily peril to do
so. What should be performed for the love of God
alone and for the love of souls, they are tempted to
do through worldly or even unworthy m^otives, such
as vanity, cupidity, ambition, and the like. How
many, alas 1 who stand high in the esteem of their
fellow-men would find their lives hollow and worth-
less if weighed in the balance of God's judgments 1
If they would see it with their own eyes, they need
only take up what fills their days and their weeks,
and, looking beneath the surface, discover what sus-
tains it all. Let them set aside what is done through
a mere natural sense of propriety, or in obedience
to public opinion, and a dread of its censure, or

146 H)atls XTbougbts

through vanity, — the wish to be well thought of,
to do themselves credit, to do better than others,
to win the favor of their superiors, or to be popular,
or for emolument, or for promotion, — let them put
aside all that ovv^es its existence to such inspirations
in their daily life, and then see vv^hat rem.ains. How
many awake only in death to the sense of the empti-
ness of their lives in the sight of God. " Dor7?iierunt
somnum suum, et nihil invenerunt divitiaruvi in
manibus suisT — Ps. Ixxv. 6.

" Son^ I must he thy supreme and ultimate end if
thou desirest to be truly happy. By this i^itention shall
thy affections be purified which too often are irregularly
bent upon thyself a7id things created,

^''Principally^ therefore^ refer all things to me ^ for it
is I that have given thee all" — Imit, ill. 9.

Ube Barren fig^Zvcc 147

XXXVII

THE BARREN FIG-TREE

" Utquid etiam terram occupat *'

" Why cumbereth it the ground ?" — Luke xiii. 7.

[[FRUIT-TREE is planted and cultivated for
the fruit it is expected to bear. If, not-
withstanding the suitableness of the soil, it
is weak or stunted in growth, or if, having reached
its full size, it proves barren, it only remains for the
cultivator to remove it, and to plant another in its
place. In this familiar mode of action Our Lord
tells us that we have a picture of God's dealings
with men. " Every tree^^^ says He in the Sermon on
the Mount, " thatbringeth not forth good fruit shall be
cut down a?id cast into the fire!''' The same lesson is
brought back and dramatized in the brief parable
preserved by St. Luke. "^ certain mail had a fig-
tree planted in his vineyard^ and he came seeking fruit
on it and found none. And he said to the dresser of the
vineyard : Behold for these three years I come seeking
fruit on this fig-tree and find none. Cut it down there-
fore ; why cumbereth it the ground ? ''

Individuals, families, nations, laymen, priests, all

148 2Dail^ ZbowQhts

are the objects of God's munificence and loving care.
To all he opens endless possibilities, of which they
may avail themselves or not. But if they neglect
them they do so at their peril. There is no grace
or gift of God without its corresponding responsi-
bility. One grows with the other. " [/n/o whom
much is given, of him 7nuch shall he required.''^ —
Luke xii. 48. God returns, as it were, from time
to time, to see what has come of His favors ; what
fruit is borne by those trees which He planted with
so much care and in so exuberant a soil.

A serious warning to all, but to none more than
to the priest. Of him a twofold harvest is expected,
— one in his ministry, the other in his soul. God
planted him among His people, to labor for their
benefit, and to make them rich in good works. He
has often to ask himself what he can present as the
result of his labors. So long as he administers the
sacraments and offers the Divine Sacrifice, the most
careless and lukewarm of priests can always point
to some results ; but they will fall short entirely of
what might have been expected. Like the barren
fig-tree, he is there, drinking in the sunshine
from above, and the substance of the soil from
below, hindering the growth of what would have
flourished outside his shadow, and having little of
his own to show but stunted fruits and worthless
foliage.

There are priests, alas ! whose ministry has sunk
to that low level. At one time active and devoted,

Ube Barren jfia^Uree 149

they have gradually grown self-indulgent, and shifted
most of the burden on others. What they retain of
it is poorly done ; their sermons ill-prepared, their
children ill-instructed, their sick neglected. The
societies they started or found established are
allowed to decline, and finally collapse. The pale
hue of death is on all their work. Behind this sad
condition of things, there is the spiritual subsidence
of the man himself in his private life ; the love of
comfort and the lack of prayer ; a certain regard,
perhaps, for outward proprieties, but scarce any-
thing of the inner spirit. And no wonder ; faith
has vv^eakened, in obedience to the law that he who
does not practise what he believes, gradually ceases
to believe in wdiat he does not practise.

'• Ut quid terram occupat ? " Why is he left to
occupy, without profit for himself or for anybody
else, a position which so many others would fill
with advantage to all ? It is, perhaps, because
some soul dear to God is begging, like the vine-
dresser in the parable, for a respite in his favor ; —
a little more time, — one more season to recover
himself, and take up in earnest what he had so long
neglected.

If he do so, it is well ; the angels of God will re-
joice over it. But if not, then, like the barren tree,
" he shall be cut down^

''^ For the earth that drinketh in the rain which cometh
often upon it^ and bringing forth herbs 7neet for them by
whom it is tilled^ receiveth blessing from God. But that

150 2)ail2 XTbouQbts

which bringeth forth thorns and briers is reprobate and
very near unto a curse ^ whose end is to be burnty —
Heb. vi. 78.

" Quod de judceis dictum^ omnibus cavendum arbitror,
et nobis maxime ; ne fcecundum Ecclesice locum vacui
meritis occupemus ; qui fructus ferre debemus internos :
— fructus pudoris^ fructus mutucB caritatis et amor is. ^'^
— Ambros. in Lucam. vii.

CbtiBVs Sufferings an& ©urs isi

XXXVIII

CHRIST'S SUFFERINGS AND OURS

" Communicantes Christi passionibus^ gaudete^^
** If you partake of the sufferings of Christy re-
joice,^'' — I Peter iv. 13.

INE of the most striking effects of the com-
j ing of Christ and of His teachings has
I been the altered attitude of His followers,
and, in some measure, of the world at large, towards
suffering. In one shape or another, suffering is the
common lot of humanity — man instinctively shuns
it. Philosophy could only teach him to harden him-
self against it. But under the influence of the
Gospel, the civilized world has learned to respect
it, and the most fervent Christian souls have come
to love and to welcome it.

I. " Blessed [that is, happy] " are they who suffer
persecution for justice'' sake^^^ said Our Lord m the
Sermon on the Mount, ''for theirs is the Kingdom
of HeavenP It is the last of the Beatitudes, the
only one developed and emphasized. " Blessed are
ye when they shall revile you^ and persecute you, and

152 Bails ZbouQhtB

speak all that is evil against you, untruly, for my
sake,^^

To live, to labor, to fight for a noble cause, is
something that lifts a man high above the com-
mon level of existence. But to suffer for it, to be
worsted, to endure the humiliation of defeat, and
bear it bravely and lovingly, is something higher
and greater still ; and this was the prospect which
Christ held out to his followers. " Non est dis-
cipulus super magistru?n : si me perse cuti sunt et vos
persequentur.'^ He spoke these words, it is true, to
His apostles alone, but they in turn, applied them
to all those whom they had won to the Gospel ; and
right through their letters we find them taking it for
granted that whoever chooses to belong to Christ
will have to suffer for it. " Through many tribula-
tions^^ says St. Paul (Acts xiv. 21), ''"we must enter
into the Kingdom of GodP ^' If doing well,^^ says St.
Peter (i Pet. ii. 20), ^'' you suffer patiently, this is
thanksworthy before God. For unto this you are
called, because Christ also suffered for us, leavifig you
an example that you should follow in His footsteps T

St. Paul goes farther : he points to suffering as a
condition and a sign of our divine brotherhood with
Christ, and shows what follows from it. ^^ If sons,
heirs also, heirs indeed of God, and joint heirs with
Christ, yet so if we suffer with Him, that we may be
also glorified with HimJ^-— Rom. viii. 17.

This union with Christ, effected by suffering, is
not merely external or imitative. Christ lives in

Cbrist 6 Sufferings an6 ®urs io3

the faithful, and they in Him. He suffered in His
person, and he continues to suffer in His members.
Sufferings endured for Him and for His Gospel
become part of His own sufferings. Hence St
Paul (2 Cor. vii. 5), speaks of the sufferings of
Christ as abounding in himself; and again mere
strikingly: (Col. i. 24), ^^ I rejoice in my siifferi7igs
for you^ and [thereby] fill up those things that are
wanting of the suff^e^'-itigs of Christ in my flesh for His
body^ which is the church,^^ implying thereby that the
redeeming work of Christ, considered in its entirety,
is not completed in Himself, but has to be ^filled
up " in his members, each one helping by his suffer-
ings to apply the merits of the Redemption, first
to himself, and then to others. Thus our suffer-
ings are truly Christ's, as Christ's are ours. What
we endure, however insignificant, if it be borne in
a truly Christian spirit, is invested with something
of the dignity of Christ himself. Whatever we
freely take upon ourselves is, in so far, a lightening
of the burden of atonement that weighs on our
brethren in the faith, and on humanity at large.
Nothing of it is lost ; and through it, in Christ and
with Christ, v/e are ever helping to redeem the
race.

Such thoughts as these were present to the minds
of the Saints, sustaining them in a life of universal
self-denial and voluntary suffering. Most of them
had very little to atone for in their own present or
past, yet they led most penitential lives. And they

154 H)afli? XTbougbts

did so, first, to expiate the sirxS of others. If pas-
tors of souls, they made themselves responsible for
the sins of their people. Like loving fathers, they
helped to cancel their children's debts. Again, they
bound themselves more closely to Christ by volun-
tarily sharing his sufferings. Finally, in the aus-
terities which they practised, they found not only
untold facilities for prayer, and for the cultivation
of charity and of all the other Christian virtues, but
also a contentment and joy, which strangers to such
a manner of life have never been able to under-
stand.

" If thou carry the cross willingly, it will carry tJiee^
and briitg thee to thy desired end, namely, to that place
where there will be end of siiffering, though here the^-e
will be no end. If thou carry it unwillingly, thou
makest it a burden to thee, and loadest thyself the
more ; a7td, nevertheless, thou must bear it. If thon
fling away one cross, without doubt thou wilt find
another, and perhaps a heavier T — Imit. ii. 12.

mnselfisbness 155

XXXIX

UNSELFISHNESS

** Cum facts prandium noli vocare vicinos divites . . .
sed voca pauperes^ debiles^ daudos et cxcos.^"^

" When thou makest a dinner or a supper^ call not
thy friends^ nor thy brethren^ nor thy kinsmen^ nor thy
neighbors who are rich, lest, perhaps, they also invite thee
■ again, and a recompense be made to thee. But when
thou makest a feast, call the poor, the mai^ned, the lame,
and the blind, and thou shall be blessed, because they
have 7iot wherewith to make thee recompense ; for
recompense shall be made thee at the resurrection of the
just, '' — Luke xiv. 12-14.

HRIST proclaims here what is best in itself,
but without meaning to condemn what is
less perfect, or expecting that it shall cease
to have its place in ordinary human intercourse. In
the exercise of hospitality, as in all the other relations
of life, there is room for every degree of excellence,
from the humblest to the highest. Men act in almost
all they do from a variety of motives, some clearly
realized, some vaguely felt, some entirely uncon-
scious, yet none the less influencing the doer. These

166 Bailp Ubouobts

motives impart to the work their moral character,
according to the measure in which they influence it.
Consequently the excellence of whatever is done,
depends on the dignity, the intensity, and the purity
of the motives from which the action proceeds.
Motives are pure in proportion as they are unmixed
with others of baser alloy. Their intensity is
measured by their moving pov>rer, and their dignity
by the distance that separates them from self.

Now, it has to be remembered that man is incapa-
ble of acting habitually through the highest motives,
to the exclusion of those less perfect. His nature is
complex, open on every side to attractions and im-
pulses which claim their share in his life, and can-
not be ignored. Each virtue has its special charm,
each vice its corresponding repulsiveness, both des-
tined in the order of Providence to sustain him
in a line of action from which he would be sure to
swerve if he had nothing but the highest motive —
that of pure love — to sustain him. This remark
holds good not only of virtuous motives, but of
others which in themselves possess no element of
virtue. Thus we are led by the natural love of
pleasure, or dread of suffering, to give to our bodies
the nutriment, the rest, the care, which they require,
but which would be neglected in most cases, if
the call of nature were not constantly heard. The
same natural attraction leads us, in our own interest,
to the faithful performance of most of our domestic
and social duties.

To the latter belongs the practice of hospitality,
including other similar courtesies of civilized life, to
which Our Lord refers in the above-mentioned text.
To invite a man to share one's meal is a mark of
friendly feeling. He is asked to spend with his host
an enjoyable hour, and is admitted for the time
being to the intimacy of his home. The selfish man
invites his friends under the pressure of opinion, or
for some selfish end. With the great majority it is a
question of mixed motives. Men ask their friends
through a friendly feeling, and at the same time with
the expectation of some adequate return. The
moral value of the act depends on the relative pro-
portion of the t^vo kinds of motives. There is,
however, a constant peril of the lower becoming
predominant ; hence the recommendation of Our
Lord, — couched in extreme form, as was His wont,
to make it more striking. He did not want to do
away wdth that habitual exchange of courtesies in
daily life, which help so powerfully to bring together
people of the same social condition, and to bind
them more closely to one another. He knew that
thereby the better impulses of human nature are
awakened and brought into play. He knew, too,
that although kindness when entirely unselfish, is
best in itself, yet it is not good for anybody to be
always a mere benefactor. Such a ro/e is too apt to
beget pride, and even to harden the heart of the
giver, unless he values much the gratitude of the
recipient. It is good, also, for the latter that he may

158 H)alls UbouQbts

be able to make some return. Humility is a good
thing, but so is self-respect ; and for the u5es of
daily life the natural sentiment has as much impor-
tance as the supernatural virtue.

The lesson of *the Saviour amounts, therefore, to
this : " Whenever you do a kindness^ think chiefly of
those to whom you show //, and as little as possible of
yourself Be unselfish^ especially in doing what is
ostensibly and professedly ge7ierous. And in order to do
so effectively y prefer to be kind to those who can make no
return,^^

" Son^ observe diligently the motives of nature and
grace . . . Nature is crafty and always proposes self
as her end^ but grace walketh in simplicity y and doth
all thing purely for God,

*' Nature labor eth for its own interests ^ and con-
sidereth what gain it may derive from another ; but
grace co?isidereth not what may be advantageous to self
but rather what may be beneficial to many,

*^ Nature is covetous and liketh rather to take than to
give ; bnt grace is kind and open hearted^ is contented
with little, and judgeth more blessed to give than to
receiveJ^ — Imit. iii. 54,

TLM priest's l)appiness 159

XL

THE PRIEST^S HAPPINESS

" jBeafz oculi qui vident quoe vos videtisT
" Blessed are the eyes which see what you see ; for I
say to you that many prophets and kings have desired
to see the things that you see, and have not seen them, and
to hear the things that you hear^ and have not h^ard
themy — Luke x. 23, 24.

IREAT, indeed, was the privilege of the
Apostles to be admitted to the intimacy of
the Saviour ; to behold with their eyes
wonders such as the world had never seen before,
and to listen to the words of the divine Teacher as
they fell from His sacred lips, — words which hu-
manity has since gathered up, and will never cease
to repeat with reverence and love. Great, also, are
the privileges of their successors, and happy their
lot ; for to them, too, it is given to live amid sights
and scenes full of that heavenly joy, of which the
outer world catches only rare and rapid glimpses.

Happy indeed is the life of a priest, but not one of
unmixed happiness, for such a thing is beyond the
reach of mortal man. The priest has to bear his

1^0 Bails Ubongbts

own share of human sorrow and suffering ; he has,
also, to take upon himself a good share of the burden
of others. Nor has he the compensation which the
worldling finds in the gratification of the senses, or
in the triumphs of earthly ambitions. Yet an earthly
reward is not denied him. To be looked up to, to
be trusted, to be loved, is something highly valued
even by the best of men. It is much to bring back
peace and joy to souls that have lived for years
strangers to one and the other. It is much to devote
all one's time and energies to the highest and noblest
of purposes, the moral and spiritual elevation of men.
From the standpoint of the mere natural man, such
a life brings its own reward ; how much more when
all this is seen in the light of faith !

I. Nothing helps to give abiding interest to life
more than the sense of its usefulness. The conscious-
ness of being helpful to others makes men forget
themselves in every sphere of society ; and if those
whom they serve are especially dear to them, they
can endure much and yet be happy. This may be
seen in everyday life, in the case of fathers and
mothers who toil unceasingly, suffer many a privation
and hardship, and yet never complain, because of
the comforts and joys they secure to their little ones.
Men raised to high positions, and charged mth im-
portant duties, are sometimes so completely absorbed
by them, that they find little time for rest, and still
less for enjoyment ; yet they are happier than they
would be in the life of ease and pleasure they might

tlbe priest's ft)appiness i6i

have had. So is it with the priest. Seen in the
Hght of faith, no existence can compare in usefulness
with his ; no interests, however great to human eyes,
can compare with those entrusted to him. Each
day he goes forth to do the greatest work on earth ;
all day long he bears in his hands God's dearest
treasures, the immortal souls of his children. How
can he be otherwise than happy ?

2. Each day, too, he witnesses the work of God's
grace in saints and sinners, and such a vision, con-
templated in the light of faith, is one of surpassing
beauty. Nothing is fairer on earth than a pure
soul ; and each day it is the privilege of the priest
to look into the transparent depths of children,
artless and ignorant of evil, still bearing, as it were,
the recent impress of their baptism ; of others grow-
ing into youth, yet having lost scarce anything of
their original innocence, — open, trustful, with a
wonderful hold on the solemn truths of the faith ;
of others, again, disturbed already, and clouded by
temptation, fighting bravely, it may be, yet conscious
of their weakness, and hastening to shelter them-
selves under the protecting care and love of their
divinely ordained defender. What a privilege to
watch over them I What a joy to preserve them
from evil !

3. Yet greater still is the privilege and the joy of
raising them up when wounded in the battle of life,
and bearing them away, and nursing them back
rgain into health and vigor. The physician who,

162 Bails xrbouabts

by dint of knowledge and thought and care, has
rescued a fellow-man from the jaws of death, and
restored him to his family, is, indeed, a happy man;
but how much more the priest who, by patient, loving
care, and by the pov/er which he possesses from
above, brings back, day after day, the foolish child,
the wayward son, the prodigal, unfaithful husband,
to their homes, — the wandering souls to God I Our
Lord himself describes that joy under the familiar
and graceful image of the shepherd eager in the pur-
suit of the lost sheep. ^' And when he hath found it
lays it upon his shoulders rejoicing ; and coming home
calls together his f7'iends and neighbors^ saying to them :
Rejoice with me because I have found my sheep that
was lost, " — Luke xv. 5.

Every day the priest is the guide of the unen-
lightened and of the perplexed, the helper of the
needy, the comforter of the sick and of the afflicted,
the refuge of all who suffer and are tried. Like his
Master, " he goes about ^^^ all day long, ^' doing good
and healing all^ for God is with him^ — Acts x. 38.

4. " God is with himP He is God's representative,
God's messenger. He is the friend of Our Lord :
''''jam 7ion dicam vos servos^ vos autem dixi amicos^
He is admitted to the altar on terms of the closest
intimacy with Him. He is made a sharer in His
divine power ; he is the dispenser of His treasures.
His life is a life of unceasing, though unseen,
miracles.

XTbe priest's Ibappiness i63

O that v/e should always see it, reverence it, love
it, enjoy it thus !

" Attende quod facit foenerator : minus vult dare et
plus accipere ; hoc fac et tu. Da modica^ accipe mag?ia.
Da temporalice accipe ceterna. Da terram^ accipe
ccelum,''^ — Aug. in Fsalm xxxvi.

164 S)afls ZbOMQbtB

XLI

SUCCESS

^^ Multi dicent mihi in ilia die: Domine^ Domine^
no fine in nomine tuo prophetavimus^ et in nomine tuo
dcemonia ejecimus^ et in nomine tuo virtutes multas
fecimus ? Et time confitebor illis : quia nunquam
novi vosy

^' Many will say to me in that day : Lord, Lord,
have we not prophesied in thy name, and cast out devils
in thy name, and do?te ma?ty miracles in thy na7ne ?
And then will L profess ufito them : I never knew you ^
— Matt. vii. 22, 23.

HE day which the Saviour speaks of here
and on many other occasions under the
emphatic designation of '^ that day, "^^ is the
day of judgment, when, by the divine power, all
delusion will be dispelled, and the reality of things
revealed to each one as regards himself and others.
But it is not so easy to see who are the " many "
to whom Our Lord refers. Doubtless His thought
goes forth and embraces, as usual, the whole sub-
sequent history of man; but by His ordinary methods
of teaching we are led to suppose that He refers

Success 165

primarily to things belonging to the present, or to
the near future. As a fact, we know (Mark ix. 39)
that His name was used with success to expel the
evil spirits by men who were not among His fol-
lowers ; this, with something of a similar kind
related in the Acts (xix. 3), justifies the conclusion
that, before and after the Ascension of Our Lord,
many strange and preternatural things, of which
no record remains, were done through the invocation
of His name by exorcists who, in some way, be-
lieved in Him, yet remained strangers to the great
truths He had taught, and to the discipline of life He
had established. These He represents as claiming,
on the last day, admission to His Kingdom, on the
ground of having belonged to Him. But He warns
them that the connection being only external and
apparent, and the true bond of faith and love having
been always missing. He will not recognize them as
having been at any time His.

This class of men disappeared with the first
Christian generation, but the warning remains for
all times. It appeals to all those who are tempted
to believe that if their work is of a religious charac-
ter, success in any one direction is enough to win
the divine favor. The number of such is great
outside the Catholic Church, — philanthropists, re-
formers, preachers of total abstinence, of Sabbath
observance, and the like ; nor are they wanting
among Catholics. Priests even, doing active sue
cessful work, are liable to fall into that manner of

166 •Bail^ Ubougbts

self-delusion. The world judges them, as it judges
men generally, by results ; and too easily they
accept its judgment. In the excitement of their
work and in the contemplation of it when done,
they are apt to lose sight of God and of their souls.
The praises of men blind them to their spiritual
destitution. ^^ I know thy works^'^^ says Our Lord in
the Apocalypse, " that thou hast the name of being
alive ^ and thou art dead P'' Dead, alas ! to piety,
dead to prayer, dead to the whole life and spirit of
the Gospel. ^^ Nomen habes quod vivas et mortuus es,^^
We live in a country and in a period of restless
activity, of advertising and being advertised, of ner-
vous anxiety for results almost at any cost. How
sad to see priests caught up and carried away
by the flood, losing the merit of their lives, not to
say their very souls, while saving others I Like
those of whom Our Lord speaks, they prophesy
by the earnestness of their preaching ; they cast out
devils by the power of the sacraments ; they work
wonders of material construction and organization ;
but they are sustained in it all and borne along
chiefly by natural impulse, by exuberant activity, by
the spirit of pride, by the desire to be talked of by
their people and by their fellow priests, by all man-
ner of human motives worthless in the sight of God.
Only at the judgment of God — " on that day'' — will
they know, will the world know, in what depths of
spiritual poverty they have lived and died.

H eoot^ TRame 167

XLII

A GOOD NAME

" Sic luccat lux vestra coram hominibus ut videant
bona opera vr.st7^a et glorificent Patrem vestrum qui
in ccelis est,''''

*' So let your light shine before men that they may
see your good works ^ and glorify your Father who is
in heaven,''^ — Matt. v. i6.

ggaiHAT men should be good in the sight of
i wi ^^^ ^^ ^^^ enough. Their goodness should
^^U be apparent to their fellow-men. Thereby
God is honored. Religion is more respected when
the most religious people are found to be in all
their dealings the most estimable men. Again, by
revealing the goodness that is in them, men help
each other to be good. From another point of
view, not only is each one benefited in many ways
by the good opinion others have of him, but he is
thereby enabled to benefit them by the correspond-
ing influence of his judgments and his examples.
Hence, in their interest as well as in his own, he
may be led, nay, sometimes obliged, to watch over
his reputation. This is not necessarily pride or

168 H)ail^ ZhoiXQ'ots

vanity ; indeed, it finds its sanction in the inspired
words of the Wise man ; " Ta^e care of a good?ia7ne —
cur am habe de bono nomine — for this shall co7itinue with
thee more than a thousand treasu7'es^ precious and
great ^^ (Eccl. xH. 15), and is confirmed by the above-
mentioned words of Our Lord himself.

But then it will be asked, what becomes of the
^^ ama nesciri et pro nihilo reputari^^ of the Imitation ?
What becomes of the lessons of humility taught by
the Master himself and by the Saints, and so strik-
ingly emphasized by their examples ?

The Fathers notice the difficulty and supply the
answer. The esteem of our fellow-men is at the
same time a necessity and a peril ; a necessity, for
without it, at least in a certain degree, we cannot
hold the position and perform the duties providen-
tially assigned to us ; a peril, for the good opinion of
others is the very nutriment upon which vanity
sustains itself. We have, therefore, to seek for it,
and at the same time to fear it. Ordinary Christians
think more of the former ; the Saints think more of
the latter ; and they are practically right, for^the
impulses of worldly wisdom and the instinctive
cravings of the natural man wall not allow his
legitimate claims to be forgotten ; whereas the needs
of the soul are easily lost sight of.

True wisdom, therefore, commands that the good
opinion of others should be sought for only as
dangerous things are handled, — through necessity,
and with care.

H (3oo5 IRaine 169

There are things for which a man may be admired
without any other advantage accruing to him or to
his admirers. The Christian instinct forbids him to
cultivate them. There are others which win him
the necessary esteem of those among whom he Hves.
He seeks that esteem, and is concerned not to lose
it, but only in the measure in which it is necessary
or serviceable for other worthy ends. He restrains
the natural satisfaction he finds in it, because he
fears it may lead him away from the strict line of
duty. In a word, the good opinion of others is to
him a means to be cultivated, so long as it is help-
ful ; but to be dropped as worthless and dangerous,
when it can be won and held only at the cost of
faithfulness to God.

In the writings and in the life of St. Paul, v/e find
this conception strikingly illustrated. He is anxious
that his children should win the approval of those
among whom they lived. " Whatsoever things are
true,^^ he writes to the Philippians (iv. 8), " whatso-
ever just ^ whatsoever lovely^ whatsoever of good fame ^
think on these things ; " that is, strive for and practise
them. " Let your modesty be known to all men^ It
was the rule he laid down to others and to himself.
" We forecast what may be good, not only before God,
but also before men^ — 2 CoR. viii. 21. On more
than one occasion he reminds those he had won to
the faith of his perfect disinterestedness. He deals
with the alms entrusted to his care in such a v/ay as
to preclude all possibility of suspicion. In the

170 Baili^ Zbo\XQht3

second Epistle to the Corinthians, he enters into an
elaborate defence of himself, and enumerates at
length his endless labors and sujfferings, and even
the special favors he had received from heaven.
But he does it for the purpose of retaining an
influence over them necessary for their good, and he
does it with visible reluctance. " / /lave become
foolish,^^ he says, in thus recalling his privileges.
" You have compelled me, ^''

But when it is question of mere human qualities,
however much appreciated by the Corinthians, he
readily disclaims them, and makes himself the least
of all. "7^r myself I will glory in nothing but in my
infirmities I '^'^ In reality he is little concerned, so
far as regards himself, about what they think of
him, and he tells them so: ^^ To me it is a very small
thing to be judged by you, or by man's day " (i.e., by
any other human judgment). '^ He that judgeth me is
the Lordy He reckons with public opinion so long
as it conflicts with no higher law. But if it lead
away in any measure from the will of God, he utterly
ignores it. Such was the case in regard to the
Galatians; he had to choose between displeasing
them and maintaining the liberty of the Gospel,
'''Do I seek to please men,^^ he writes. '^ If I yet
pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ?''
Welcome or unwelcome, '•'by honor or dishonor, by
evil report and good report,^'' he is resolved to deliver
his message as he received it. '''-As we were ap-
proved, even so we speak; not as pleasing men^ but God

H Ooo^ IFlame i7i

w/io proveth our hearts. Neither have we used, at
any time, the speech of flattery^ as you know^ nor sought
we the glory of men^ neither of you nor of other s.^^ —
I Thess. i. 4.

Such is also the rule of the pastor of souls. For
reputation in itself he cares little ; but he needs the
respect, the confidence, and the affection of the
faithful. All these dispositions he has to cultivate,
not by any unworthy artifice, or by assuming any
quality with which he is not gifted; not by ^^ speech
of flattery f"" not by any sacrifice of principle, but by
a faithful performance of his duties, by unvarying
disinterestedness and sincere love of his people.
But he has to see to it that nothing shall estrange
their hearts from him; and if misunderstandings
arise at any time, he owes it to them as well as to
himself, that, like St. Paul, he shall labor to set him-
self right ^''uot only before God, but before all men.'''

^^ Duce res sunt necessarice, conscientia etfama. Con-
scientia nostra sufficit nob is, propter alios fama necessaria
est, Conscientia tibi, fama proximo tuo. Qui fidens
conscientice suce negligit famam suam, crude lis est i7t
proximum.''^ — Aug., Sermo I. de Vita Clericorum,

172 Bails Xlbouabts

XLIII

TEACHING BY EXAMPLE

^^ Imitator es mei estate sicut et ego ChristiP
^^ Be ye followers (imitators^ /jLLfx-nrai) of me as I also
am of Christ,^'' — i Cor. xi. i.

ORE than once St. Paul invites the faith-
ful to look to him, and learn from his man-
ner of life what they should be. Already,
in an earlier part of this very Epistle (iv. i6), he
lays down the same law. He repeats it to the Phi-
lippians (iii. 17): '^ Be followers of me (\y. 9). The
things you have leariied and seeji in me^ these do ye^^'*
and twice to the Thessalonians, (i Tliess. i. 6 ; 2
Thess. iii. 7), extending the principle in both cases
to the companions of his apostolate, Sylvanus and
Timothy. *' You yourselves know how you ought to
imitate us,^^ He thus shows that they too, because
of their office, were set up before the faithful, that
from their lives as well as from their lessons all
might learn what they should be.

Conversely, when St. Paul addresses the teachers
themselves, he reminds them that they have to set

xreacbiuG bg Example its

the example of what they teach. " Be thou an ex-
ample of the faithful''' he writes to Timothy (i Tim.
iv. 12), ^^in word^ in conversation (i.e. in conduct),
in charity^ in faith ^ in chastity ^ And to Titus (ii.
7), ^^ In all things show thyself an example of good
works r St. Peter in turn gives similar instructions
to the "- ancients ^'^ or presbyters (i Peter v. 2).
^^ Feed the flock of God . . . not lording it . . . but
being made a patter7ty

In this, indeed, they were only carrying out the
plan of Our Lord himself, who had so clearly told
them in the Sermon on the Mount, that they were
to be the light of the world chiefly by their ex-
amples. " You are the light of the world ; so let your
light shine before men^ that they may see your good
works ^ a?id glo?'ify your Father who is in heaven P It
was the method He had followed in dealing with
them, for He had gathered them around Him, not
only to listen to His words, but also to witness His
actions, and to learn from his life the life they should
follow. " / have given you an example,''^ He says,
after washing the disciples' feet, " that as I have
done to you, so you do also,'^

Here, then, we have a law, a method clearly laid
dow^n, and to be followed through all ages. Christ
is the model of the priest ; the priest has to be the
model of the people. His example is as much a
part of his ministry as preaching, or administering
the sacraments. If we could imagine a priest in
charge of souls appearing only at the altar, or in

1T4 Bails Ubougbts

the pulpit, or in the confessional, and then with-
drawing himself completely from the view of the
faithful, we should have to call him back to live
among his people, in order to let them see the full
meaning of a practical Christian life. This is so
much the mind of the Church, that in conferring
each one of the orders, she is careful to impress on
those she consecrates the special duty of good ex-
ample. The " ostiarius " is told to open the hearts
of the faithful to God, and close them against the
evil one ^^ by word afid by example;'''' the acolyte
is reminded that the lighted taper he bears is a
symbol of the shining examples he is bound to show
forth; and so on up to the priest, to whom, at every
step of his solemn consecration, the great fact is
recalled, that henceforth he has to be the embodi-
ment of all the Christian virtues, a fragrant odor
of the Gospel, a living rule for the faithful.

The law thus laid down to priests in their prepa-
ration, the church has in the course of ages kept
steadily before them by the numberless rules, regu-
lations, decrees of her bishops, her popes, and her
councils. There is nothing she seems to have had
more at heart than to keep her priests at such a
height as that all may look to their lives for guid-
ance. What a glorious vocation, and what a power-
ful incentive to a beautiful life I

" Nihil est quod alios magis ad pietatem et Dei cul-
turn assidue instruat quam eorum vita et exampla

Ueacbfng bp JEiample 175

qui se divino ministerio dedicarunt. Cum eni7n a rebus
sceculi in altiorem sublati locum conspiciantur^ i7i eos
tanquam in speculu7n reliqui oculos co7ijiciunt ex iis quae
sumant quod imite7iticr, Quapropter sic om7zino decet
clericos vitam moresque suos om7us componere^ ut hahiiu^
gestu^ i7icessu, sermo7ie^ aliisque omnibus rebus 7iihil
nisi grave fnoderatum ac religione ple7tum prce se
ferant" — Con. Trid., Sess, xxiv, ci.

176 2)atl^ UbouQbts

XLIV

SPIRITUAL SWEETNESS

" Ma7ie nohiscum quoniam advesperascit et inclinata
est jam dies^

" Stay with us because it is towards evenings and the
day is now far spe7it,'''' — Luke xxiv. 29.

HERE are few incidents in the Gospel nar-
rative more beautiful and touching than
that of the disciples of Emmaus. In the
vivid picture of St. Luke, we see them as they wend
their way to the village of Emmaus, dejected in
looks and in heart, discussing the particulars of the
dread tragedy they had just witnessed. They had
been faithful followers of Our Lord ; they had been
won, like so many more, by the beauty of His teach-
ings, and by His wonderful works. They had
believed He was about to accomplish the great
things that had been promised to their people. But
all their hopes had been dashed to the ground by
the happenings of the last few days. Jesus, from
whom they had expected so much, had been arrested
by the public authorities, tried, condemned, and put

Spiritual Sweetness 177

to a cruel and ignominious death. True, a ray of
reviving hope had dawned upon them that morning
with the reports of the holy women ; but it failed to
dispel the sadness of their souls ; and so they went
their way depressed and desponding. It is then
that the Lord approaches unrecognized, enters into
their thoughts, enlightens their minds, warms their
hearts, yields to their entreaties, and finally disap-
pears, leaving behind Him the divine odor of His
presence, with the peace which He alone can give.

Besides the picture we have here of all there is of
tenderness and love in the heart of the risen Saviour,
we find a striking illustration of His habitual deal-
ings with His children through all ages.

The soul, in its relations with God, has usually its
alternating periods of brightness and of darkness ;
times of dryness and seeming insensibility, of hope-
fulness and of fear ; times of unction and heavenly
joy. They vary with each individual in power and
duration, and form some of the most potent helps
or hindrances of the spiritual life. There are souls
that live almost constantly in the light; they carry
v/ithin them a strong sense of the unseen world.
Heaven, hell, God's grace, and God's love are almost
as real to them as the visible objects that surround
them. The thought of Christ, of what He is to them,
and will be through all time, is an abiding, an inex-
haustible source of joy. There is in them a youthful-
ness, a hopefulness, a buoyancy of spirits that makes
light of hardship, and carries them through tempta-
tion almost without an effort.

178 Daili? Ubouabts

This is the condition of spiritual consolation and
sweetness which the author of the Imitation so
loves to dwell upon. *' Veriiet ad te Christus ostendens
tibi consolationem suam . . . Frequens illi visitatio
cum homine interno^ dulcis sermocinatio, grata consolatio^
multa pax ^ familiar itas stupenda nimis^^ ("Lib. ii. c. i).
And again (Cap. 8) : " Quando Jesus adest, totum
honum est, nee quidquam difficile videtur ; Si Jesus
tantum verbum loquitur magna consolatio sentitur,'^^

But to feel thus uninterruptedly the presence and
love of Christ in the soul is the privilege of very-
few. There are those to whom it is at all times
denied ; and yet, though weighed down by the
cross, they go through life valiantly with little to
sustain them beyond the sense of duty, and of
loyalty to God. But v/ith the great majority of
souls aspiring to a higher life, there is a succes-
sion of opposite moods : of hope and of fear, of
courage and of weakness, of success and of failure,
of joyful turning to God and to His service, and of
coldness and distaste for the practices of devotion.

This latter condition is full not only of sadness,
but of danger. It weakens the hold of the soul
on the realities of faith; it destroys the sense of
Christ's abiding presence ; it divests His law of its
beauty and commanding power ; it begets a condi-
tion of discouragement and despondency, which
leads in turn to neglect, and, it may be, to the total
abandonment of the service of God.

It is then that Christ, in his pity and love, reveals

Spiritual Sweetness 179

Himself afresh to the souls thus tried. He ap-
proaches them, hiding Himself under the ordinary
operations of their natural powers. He mingles His
thoughts with theirs ; He brings back the light by
which they see things once more under their true
aspects, and in their true colors. He fills their
hearts, and makes them feel the normal warmth and
flow of life within them. Great is their happiness
once again, and gladly would they make it abiding.
They beg that it may be so. ''^ Mane nohiscum^
Domme,^ But this cannot be. It is enough that
they should have recovered strength to pursue their
journey. They know now what to think of the
temptations which assailed them, of the darkness
which momentarily surrounded them. They must
start afresh on the strength of that memory. The
occasional flashes of the revolving coast-lights suffice
to guide the mariner. Complete happiness, in perfect
goodness, is the condition of heaven, not of earth.
Here below we have to fight and to win victories.
To serve God in the midst of ever-present consola-
tions would imply little sacrifice and little merit.
"•It is not hard,^' says the Imitation, " /^ despise all
human consolations whe7i we have divine. But it is
much, and very much, to be able to forego all comfo?'t,
both human and divined And therefore it is, that
God reserves such trials for his Saints, and tempers
for ordinary souls their habitual poverty and weak-
ness by occasional glimpses of Himself, such as He
vouchsafed to the disciples of Emmaus.

180 2)aii^ xrbougbts

" Therefore^ when God gives spiritual consolatioft,
receive it with thanksgiving ; but know that it is God^s
free gift^ and ?to merit of thine. Be not lifted up^ he
not overjoyed^ 7ior vainly presume^ but rather be
the more humble for this gift ^ more cautious too, and
fearful in all thy actions, for that hour will pass away,
and temptation follow,

" When consolation shall be taken away from thee
do not prese?itly despair, but with humility afid patience
await the heavenly visitation . . . Even a?nong the
great Sai^tts there has often been this kind of vicissitude ^
— Imit. ii. 9.4.

Spiritual Influence i8i

XLV

SPIRITUAL INFLUENCE

"7^ omnibus teipsum pr(Kbe exemplum honorum
operum,^''

" In all things show thyself an example of good
worksT — Tit. ii. 7.

HE priest influences the people religiously
by every act of his ministry, — by preach-
ing, by administering the sacraments, at
the altar, in the confessional, at the bedside of the
sick and the dying. But his action is not confined
to the performance of such duties. Besides the
official influence of the priest, there is the personal
influence of the man, — his power of attraction, of
persuasion, the gift of winning people gently to what
is highest and best. Into this kind of action the
whole man enters, — the tone of his mind, his aspi-
rations, his ideals, his whole manner and bearing.
Who has not found himself lifted up by contact with
persons of a higher nature ? Who has not felt all
that was petty or mean or unworthy in him hide
itself and disappear in presence of those more ex-

Dafli? Xlbouabts

alted types of nature and grace ? The great art
critic, Winckelmann, was wont to say that in pres-
ence of the famous statue of Apollo Belvedere, he
felt himself assume instinctively a noble attitude.
Example, indeed, is the most effective of all means
of influence. It is the deepest, the most abiding.
Example teaches, exhorts, rebukes ; it does all that
Vv^ords can do, and does it better : " Longum est iter
per prcecepta^ efficax et breve per exempla . . . Verba
movent^ exempla trahunt,'^^

The influence of example makes itself often felt
in isolated actions of an extraordinary character,
which strike the imagination, and fix their indelible
impress on the memory — noble deeds revealing
noble souls. But its happiest effects proceed from
the even tenor of a beautiful life, as observed in
its everyday features. Exhibitions of conventional,
professional piety, wherever detected, are positively
repulsive ; the simple, unostentatious virtue of the
true priest brings edification to all. He is a living
sermon, teaching all day long, by simple contact, the
virtues not only of the Christian, but also of the
man ; for even in the humbler, yet necessary quali-
ties of the natural life, he feels it due to his char-
acter that he should strive to be equal to the best,
— upright, honorable, reliable, generous, — and thus
be a pattern to his people in all things. Instead of
making himself like them, he knows that they want
to be like him, and would have him in all th^'^q^s,
such as they may look up to and admire. And so

Spiritual ITnfluence 183

he watches and strives, weeding out of himself all
that is low or weak or unworthy, and cultivating
what is noblest and best, according to the injunction
of the apostle to the Philippians (iv. 8) : " For the
rest, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever modest,
whatsoever just, whatsoever holy, whatsoever lovely^
whatsoever of good fame, if there be any virtue, any
praise of discipline, think on these things^ Thus fash-
ioned he goes forth and mingles with his people, —
visibly impressed with the importance of his ofBce,
finding no time and having no heart for anything
else ; accessible, kind, and helpful to all ; not speak-
ing of holy and heavenly things to each one, yet
leaving behind him, wherever he goes, something
of God and of heaven.

" Sit doctrina et exemplar vitce tucB speculum vitce
quod omnibus proponitur ad imitandum^ velut archety-
pus et primitiva qucedam imago, omina in se habens
quce bona et honesta sunt^^ — S. Chrysost., Sacer-
dotio.

y.-

184 2)aili5 UbouQbts

XLVI

SCANDAL

" V(B mundo a scaiidalis, Vcd homini illi per quern
scandalum venit,^^

" Wo to the IV or Id because of scandals. . . . Wo to
that man by whom scandal cometh^ — Matt, xviii. 7.

Hi^^^lO man can live in society without influen-
R^^r ^^^§ those among whom he Uves. What he
iBMifiiial says and what he does is teUing, all day
long, in a variety of ways known and unknown, for
good or for evil, upon those who hear his words and
witness his actions.

This is especially true of the priest. He is set
up on high, and lives in sight of the people. He is
an object of curious interest for them in all the
particulars of his daily life. He is observed ; he is
listened to ; much more of him is known than he
imagines, — more of his utterances, of his habits, of
the character of his thoughts and aspirations ; so
that, without being distinctly conscious of it, he may
be very helpful or very harmful to those around him.

In the latter case the solemn warning of Our

Scanbal 185

Lord applies to him with special emphasis : " Wo
to that man by who7n scandal Cometh^ It may come
in many ways and in various degrees. It may, like
the sin of the sons of Heli, be such as to keep the
faithful from the house of God, or from the practices
of Christian piety: ^^ Erat peccattwi filiorum Heli
grande nimis coram Domi?to, quia retrahebant ho-
mines a sacrificio Domini " — i Reg. ii. 17; or it
may shock and surprise them as something out of
keeping with the sacerdotal character, and thereby
diminish their trust in the Church and their respect
for the priesthood ; or again, it may be such as to
disappoint them, and destroy their higher Christian
ideals, as frequently happens when they find a
priest very much like themselves, — in some things,
perhaps, not so good. For if a priest differs from
the layman only by his sacred character and his
official duties ; if, in the ordinary course of life, he
is just as eager as other men in the pursuit of place
or emolument, or as hard and grasping, or as sensi-
tive in his pride, as resentful and unforgiving, or as
particular about his ease and comfort, — how can the
Christian conception of life keep its hold on those
who naturally look to him for a practical illustration
of it?

Still more is his influence harmful to those who
live in closer contact with him, and in whose pres-
ence he throws off all artificial restraint, — personal
friends, relatives, domestic servants, fellow priests.
What an amount of real harm may be done to all

186 Bailp trbougbts

these by the easy-going, tepid, worldly priest ! What
a powerful though silent and insensible encourage-
ment to them to settle down on a low, comfortable
level, amid the tangible realities of the present ! How
many young priests, alas ! have thus learned to
discard salutary restraints, to neglect the blessed de-
votions of earlier years to waste their time on use-
less objects, to pamper the flesh, — in a word, to
despoil their lives of all supernatural beauty I

" Sunt homines qui putant sibi in bene vivendo suffi-
cere conscientiam^ et non valde curant quid de illis
aliter existimetur^ ignorantes quia cum homo viderit
hominem bonce conscientice negligentius viventem^ cedi-
ficatur non ad ea quce perscrutatur^ sed ad ea quce
suspicatur : neque enim potest intrare in conscientiam
tuam, quam videt Deus, Conscientia tua coram Deo
est ; conversatio tua coram fratre tuo, si de te ille
aliquid mali suspica?is^ perturbatus cedificatur ad ali-
quid faciendum^ quod te putat facere^ du7n sic vivis ;
quid prosit^ quia venter conscientix tuce hausit aquam
puram^ et ille de tua negligentia conversationem bibit
turbatam ? '* — S. Aug. (Inter dubia) i. 9. c. 9.

IFbealSt false an& Urue 187

XLVII

IDEALS, FALSE AND TRUE

" JVisi abundaverit justitia vestra plus quam Scriha-
rum et Pharisceorum^ non intrabitis in regnum ccelo-
rumP

" Unless your justice abound more than that of the
Scribes and Pharisees^ you shall not enter into the
kingdom of heaveftP — Matt. v. 20.

j[T all times men have had ideals of goodness
which they looked up to and admired, and
which the best among them have had the
ambition to imitate. The popular ideal of the Jews
when Christ came, was represented by the Pharisees,
— men orthodox in faith, correct in life, ardent in
the love of country, strict in the observance of the
Law. Such men could not fail to win influence and
popularity; and they enjoyed both in a high degree.
The people who gathered round Our Saviour on
the Mount did not conceive of any form of life
higher or better than what they had hitherto looked
up to in their accredited teachers ; yet He tells them
plainly that their qualities were entirely insufficient
to secure admittance into His kingdom. What a

188 2>all5 ZboiXQbtB

shock it must have been to them to hear this for
the first time ! But if they will only wait, the divine
Teacher will show them how incomplete, and in
most cases how hollow, were the lives they so ad-
mired.

From the facts of the Gospel narrative, and still
more from the unsparing denunciations of Our Lord
himself (Matt, xxiii. 13, and foil., Luke xvi. 39, and
foil.), we may easily gather what were the short-
comings and vices of the Pharisees. Their ^'/or-
malism^^'' first of all, — their exaggerated concern
for externals, for the minutiae of the law, — united
with a practical disregard for its fundamental prin-
ciples. Next, " their pride " and self-importance,
revealing itself at every step, and leading to hard-
ness of heart, and contempt for others. Finally,
*^ their ostentation " and constant display of whatever
in their lives and actions could win them the admira-
tion of the people.

The Gospel is the opposite of all this. It leads
men back to fundamental things, to the indestruc-
tible principles of justice and of love. It teaches
them to act righteously for righteousness' sake, to
look to God for approval, not to man. It keeps
their weaknesses before them, humbles them, and
makes them think more of others than of them-
selves. In a word, the Christian type is the exact
opposite of that of the Pharisee, and something
incomparably nobler and higher, even in the most
unpretending of those who follow it.

liDeals, jfalse an5 XTrue i89

Indeed, the Pharisaic type, in its crude, unmitigated
form, has become unbearable to the modern mind,
fashioned by Christian traditions. But because it
is, after all, true to man's natural instincts, it has not
entirely disappeared from the world. Something of
it may be found even in the life of a priest. He
may be good, faithful, zealous ; yet, at the same
time, self-important, exacting, sedulous in cultivat-
ing public opinion, eager for praise. His composed
demeanor and his devotional practices may conceal
even from himself much that is mean and selfish.
In his concern for minor objects, he may ^'neglect
the weightier things of the law : judgme7it^ and mercy ^
and faith ; " and while " dea7isi?ig the outside of the
dish,^^ overlook the impurities it may contain.

A priest, too, may select and follow false ideals;
nor is the thing at all uncommon Thus he may not
fully believe in the purely Christian virtues, — such
as humility, gentleness, self-denial — or in the
special requirements of*the priestly character. He
may not even believe in the higher forms of natural
virtue, all based on self-sacrifice. His ideal may be
practically that of the popular priest, the successful
priest ; that is, successful in doing external work, or
in reaching positions of honor or emolument. His
principal ambition may be to secure what will
lighten, and lengthen, and sweeten existence — just
like any man of the world. And yet, " unless his
justice abound more than that " of those men to whom
he looks up with envy, he is unfit for the work of the

190 2)aU^ ZbowQhts

priesthood; and, if he has assumed its responsi-
bilities and fails to bear them, he is unfit for it/ie
kingdom of heaven.

The truth is, the ideal of the priesthood is not an
open question at all. What sort of man a priest
ought to be, what is implied in his sacred character,
what he is really pledged to by the reception of
orders, is determined almost as precisely as the
doctrines of faith, and has varied as little in the
course of Christian ages. It can be gathered from
the Gospel ; it is found in St. Paul ; it is spread out
in the pages of the Fathers, in the enactments of
councils, in the teachings of the Saints ; and every-
where it is visibly and unmistakably the same.

Ube mnfaitbful Sbepber& i9i

XLVIII

THE UNFAITHFUL SHEPHERD

EZECHIEL XXxiv. I-IO.

[[A^ the word of the Lord came to me^ say-
ing: Sofi of man prophesy^ concerning the
^shepherds of Israel ; prophesy^ and say to the

shepherds :

" Thus saith the Lord God ; Woe to the shepherds

of Israel that fed themselves ; should not the flocks be

fed by the shepherd 1

" You ate the milk, and you clothed yourselves with

the wool, and you killed that which was fat ; but my

flock you did not feed,

" The weak you have not strengthened,
" And that which was sick you have not healed :
" That which was broken you have not bound up,
" And that which was driven away you have net

brought again; fieither have you sought that which

was lost,

" But you ruled over them with rigor and with a

high hand,

^^ And 7ny sheep were scattered, because there was

no shepherd ; and they became the prey of all the beasts

192 Bails UbouQbts

of the field. My flocks we^-e scattered o?i the face of the
earthy and there was none that sought them,
^' There was none^ I say^ that sought them.
" Therefore^ ye shepherds^ hear the wo?'d of the Lord,
" Behold I myself come upon the shepherds. I will
require my flock at their hand ; and I will cause them
to cease from feeding the flock any more. Neither shall
the shepherds feed themselves any more^ and I will
deliver my flock from their mouthy and it shall no more
be meat for them"

XTbe Mvim ©uest 193

XLIX

THE DIVINE GUEST

^^ In propria venit et sui eum non receperufit^
" He came to His own and His own received Him
noty — John i. ii.

IJHE world since Christ came presents two
aspects, — one bright and hopeful, the other
dark and disheartening. On the one hand,
it is no longer the same. By His life and teachings,
Christ lighted up its gloomiest spots, and changed
its desert wastes into smiling gardens. He brought
w^ith Him, and left behind Him for all ages, treasures
of peace, of hope, of joy, of strength and courage,
in which countless millions of Christian souls have
more or less abundantly shared and continue to
share. To Christ and to His Gospel, human society
owes what has served most to lift it up and to
beautify it, — its highest principles and ideals, its
purest and noblest types of manhood and woman-
hood.

But there is the reverse of the medal, — the little
use the world has made of the Gospel, compared

194 S)aili? UbouQbts

with what v/as meant and what might have been
expected. The more one considers this, the sadder
the sight and the more striking the truth of the
beloved Apostle's sorrowful statement : '^ He carne
unto His own and His own received Hiin noiT

1 . The whole world, first of all, was His own ;
because He was God, and because as God man. He
had received it from His Father. " Omnia tradita
sunt a Patre meo (Matt. xi. 27). He came, then,
" to His own^^^ to all men. His purpose was to lead
them all to the truth, to win them all to the service
of His Heavenly Father. His message went forth
to all the races and peoples of the earth : " Going
therefore^ teach all nations!''' Yet how strangely-
impervious whole races have so far proved to the
divine appeal, — Hindus, Buddhists, Mahomedans,
— forming a large majority of mankind ! What a
saddening spectacle to contemplate in such an
incalculable number of immortal souls, " seated^ un-
illumined in the shadow of death I In propria venit
et sui eum non receperunt^

2. The Jews were His people in a special man-
ner. To them He was promised ; by them he was
expected; yet when He came. He was so utterly
unlike what they looked for, that, notwithstanding
the undeniable signs which He gave them of His
true character, they refused to recognize Him. The
people distrusted Him ; and those in power perse-
cuted Him through His public life, and finally put
Him ignominiously to death. In them principally

XTbe 2)i\>fne 6uest 195

was verified the saying of St. John, " He came to
His own and His own received Him fioty

3. But, though depriving the world of His visible
presence when He ascended into heaven. He left it
not entirely. To His disciples, on the eve of His
death, He promised repeatedly (John xiv,), that He
would come back for them and take them to His
heavenly mansion. Meanwhile, he gave them the
assurance that He would come and dwell with His
Father in all those who would be true to Him :
" Ad eum faciemus etmansionem apud eumfaciemusP
This invisible yet ever so real ^^ comiiig^'' of Christ
"/(? His own,''^ is presented in the Apocalypse (iii.
20), under a beautiful picture borrowed from the
Canticle of Canticles — ^'Behold,^^ says our Lord,
" / stand at the door and knock. If any man shall
hear my voice and open to me the door, I will come in
to him and will sup with him and he with me^

Here is Christ coming back to each one, not as
a conqueror entering a vanquished city, but as a
visitor humbly asking permission to enter. He
knocks. He makes Himself known ; but He enters
only if willingly admitted. Then He makes Him-
self at home, shares the proffered hospitality ; but
at the same time. He pays it back a hundredfold.
" I will sup with him, and he with me." This is the
intimacy described by the Imitation (1. ii. c. i.) :
" Frequens illi visitatio eum homine interno, dulcis ser-
mocinatio, grata consolatio, multa pax, familiaritas
stupenda nimis^ It is in that sense that it has been

196 S)ail^ Ubougbts

said : '* Christus semper venitJ^ He is ever coming
back, ever knocking, how often, alas ! in vain. He
comes to the sinner calHng him to repentance ; to
the weak and worldly, inviting them to be strong
and to aim at better things ; to the self-indvJgent,
warning them to take the strait way, and make for
the narrow gate through which alone they can secure
admittance to life everlasting. But the gentle appeal
is lost most of the time in the din of worldly sounds,
or stifled by the discordant voices of human pas-
sions. " He ca?ne to His own^ and His own received
Him noty

Yet there are some — there are many — (though
few when compared to the others) who listen, who
open to and welcome the Divine Visitor. Such
were the Saints. Oh, how readily, how joyfully, how
generously, they received Him ! And how rich in
return was their reward 1 The same is true of num-
berless souls at the present, — watchful, recollected,
ever alive and obedient to the promptings of grace.
It is in these faithful souls that Christ finds a com-
pensation for the hardness of sinners and the apathy
of the lukewarm.

For such a compensation he looks, first of all, to
His priests whom He has placed so near to him-
self, and to whom He comes each day in so real
and wonderful a way in the Eucharistic mystery.
There indeed He is always received bodily ; but
surely it is not the lips alone that should be opened
to Him ; it is the whole soul, — every power, every

Ube Mvinc Qncst 197

faculty, of the inner man, — thought, memory, fancy,
feeUng, the inmost depths of the heart, and tlie
whole energy of the will.

^'' De plenitudine ejus nos omnes accepimus ; ipse fons
est et radix bonorum omnium ; ipse vita, ipse lux, ipse
Veritas, non solum in seipso bonorum divitias continens,
sed in universos diffundens^ — Chrys., in Joan,

198 Bails Ubouabts

DETACHMENT

" Ecce nos reliquimus omnia etsecuti sumus te^
^'Behold, we have left all things and have followed
theeP — Matt. xix. 27.

READINESS to leave everything for
Christ's sake is the duty of all those who
claim to be His followers. He has to be
the first in their thoughts and in their lives. Every
human affection, however legitimate, and however
deep, must be held in subservience to His love.
" He that loveth father or mother more than me is not
worthy of me ; and he that loi^eth son or daughter more
than me is not worthy of me,^'' — Matt. x. 37.

In ordinary circumstances Our Lord requires
little more. In St. Luke indeed (xiv. 33), he seems
to demand an actual separation. " Everyone of you
who doth not reiiounce all that he possesses cannot be my
disciple ; " yet we know that in reality He leaves His
children in the pursuit and in the enjoyment of the
same objects as appeal to other men, but always
on condition that they be ready to give up whatever

2>etacbment 199

may interfere with the service they owe Him. They
may be often engrossed with the things of this
world, but not so as to forget their allegiance to Him,
and to His law. They are not in reality, nor do
they claim to be, independent and free. They are
the servants of Christ, they are His soldiers, ever
holding themselves in readiness to drop what engages
them in order to carry out His commands. This is
Christian detachment; not, as is sometimes imagined,
a setting aside of all earthly ambition or human
affection, but a freedom concerning them which
permits one to sacrifice them each and all, when
desirable, for a higher good. Excessive attachment
enslaves the will; detachment tempers without
destroying the natural affections, or counterpoises
them by the expansion of the higher aspirations. In
either case it looses the bond and sets free.

But there are special vocations which imply much
more. Those whose lives are given up exclusively to
the service of God, of their country, of their fellow-
men, have to relinquish many things which others
continue to enjoy. The soldier in time of war, the
physician in the midst of an epidemic, have to give
up for the time being, home, family, necessary com-
forts. The religious, bound by his vows, detaches
himself practically from much that he might other-
wise enjoy. This is effective detachment, — ?, real
separation from what appeals strongly to the senses
or to the affections. As a spiritual practice, it
serves to counteract the more dangerous tendencies

200 2)aii^ Ubougbts

of nature, it being often easier to deny them abso-
lutely than to keep them within proper bounds.

In what manner and in what measure should de-
tachment be found in the heart and life of a priest ?
The answer comes in the words of St. Peter: ''- Be-
hold we have left all things and have followed Thee^
When Christ called His apostles, without hesitation
or delay they left everj^thing and followed Him.
Of Peter and Andrew we read that " immediately
leaving their nets they followed Him ; '* . . . and of
James and John, that ^^ leaving their father^ Zebedee^
with the hired men^ they folloived Him ^ — Mark i. i8.
Of St. Matthew we are told that when Christ was
passing by, " He saw him sitting at the receipt of
custom^ and He saith to him : Follow me. A^id rising
up he followed HimP — Mark ii. 14.

That was the end of their worldly prospects. From
that on they clung to the Saviour, and thought of
nothing else. When first He sent them to prepare
the way for Him, He directed them " to take nothing
on their journey^ neither staffs nor scrips nor breads nor
money r — Luke ix. 3 ; and when their mission had
been completed by the gift of the Spirit, they went
forth in the same condition, free and fearless, owning
nothing, concerned about nothing beyond their food
and raiment : " Having food and wherewith to be
covered^ with these we are content ^ — i Tim. vi. 8. Here
we have the ideal type of the priestly vocation. Re-
sponding to the divine call, the chosen one abandons

Detacbment 201

all worldly interests, pursuits, and prospects. He
belongs henceforth to his work and to nothing else.
To those who would lead him back to what he has
abandoned, he answers in the words of Our Lord
Himself. '^ Did you not know that I must be about
my Father's business ? " For that great end he sets
aside what he had hitherto most enjoyed, the sweets,
it may be, of family life, or the society of friends, or
his favorite intellectual pursuits, or the cultivation
of some special gifts. What he may henceforth
enjoy of such things is only what comes to him as
an accident, or what he allows himself as a necessary
relaxation, or what assumes the character of a
positive duty.

The more fully he enters into the spirit of his call-
ing, the more completely he weans himself from what
might interfere with it. Friends and family find
themselves gradually neglected and forsaken ; not
that he loves them less, but that he distrusts
himself, and fears lest his love for them may
lessen his devotion to the work of God. Thus we
read of St. Francis Xavier, that when preparing to
start for India, he declined to visit his home,
although passing close by. He feared it might
weaken the strength of his resolve.

The very objects that are dearest to one thus dis-
posed, and are on that account most of an obstacle
in his way, lead not only to apparent coldness and
indifference, but to a seeming positive dislike. They
are disliked because they interfere with what he has

202 Daili? Ubougbts

most at heart, as children when they thoughtlessly
interfere with the serious occupations of their par-
ents. This is what Christ meant when setting forth
what he required of those who would pledge them-
selves to serve Him with fullest devotion, He actually
spoke of turning love into hatred ; " If any man
come to me and hate not his father^ and mother^ and wife ^
and children^ and brethren^ and sisters y yea and his own
life alsOi he cannot be my discipleP — Luke xiv. 26.

^^ Multum deseruit qui voluntatem habendi dereii-
quit.^^ — St. Bernard.

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